My Soul Invincible
by Nathaniel Dennis Copperfield
Summary: We all know what happened to Mello in Death Note. He lost the notebook, got blown up, and he and Matt died after kidnapping Takada helping to solve the Kira case. But what if things had gone differently for Mello?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, if I did I would have made Kira win for the lulz. However, I do "own" this fanfic though.

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

 _ **October 10h, 2012. 18:00 Pacific Time.**_

 _ **Somewhere in Los Angeles, California.**_

Into a dark cellar, within a rather decrepit factory, descended a pair of men through steel steps, their footsteps echoing around them. Or rather, one of them was a man, fairly tall and bald, with a thin red-haired beard and mustache around his squared jaw. He was wearing a white suit over a black shirt and a yellow tie around his neck. He was American, born and raised in Los Angeles. Nothing about his early life is remarkable, so I will not speak of it, and that is also the case with his later life—aside from the fact that he was the leader of a mafia group in Los Angeles. He seemed to be about forty years old. The man went by the name of Rod Ross. An alias, but one that could be passed off as a real name. Next to him, and also slightly to the front, was a teenager. His appearance contrasted sharply with that of the tough and business-like Rod Ross.

The teen had long straight blond hair that reached his shoulders and covered his forehead. He was then nineteen years old. He had soft facial features and piercing blue-eyes. The teen was somewhat short for his age standing at only five feet and seven inches. The boy was dressed in a style that could best be described as _hell bent for leather._ He was wearing a sleeveless black leather jacket, and black leather trousers tucked into a pair of high-laced red leather boots, which where done up only half-way, and to cover his hands he wore black leather gloves. Additionally, a red-and-white beaded rosary hung around his neck conspicuously, whether out of genuine devotion to the Roman Catholic Faith or not, it cannot be ascertained. He would have blended in perfectly at a Heavy Metal concert, minus the rosary perhaps.

He looked slightly feminine, though that might be an understatement. However, there was something about his gaze and his facial expressions that made him intimidating to look at. And while other people might have looked childish clutching a chocolate bar in one hand, as he was doing then, he did not.

His real name was a mystery to even his closest associates and friends, only two other persons in the world knew it. One of them had died five years earlier, though not many were aware of that little fact, and the other one lived half-way around the world and would never divulge it. He preferred to be addressed by the name Mello. He was a gifted orphan who had been raised in an orphanage in Winchester, England—the same place that had raised L, the late great detective. Everything else about his origins remained a mystery, no one knew which was his country of origin. Wammy's House accepted children from all over the world. However, it had been noticed that occasionally, when Mello was really angry—which was not that rare—he would swear in German, narrowing down the possibilities of his probable homeland.

Once they reached the floor, Mello slid open the iron gate which lead into the dimly lit cellar. Inside the cellar there were three men huddled close together. One of them was an elderly man wearing a white work shirt, gray trousers, and a navy-blue tie. He was sitting on a blue swivel chair, his hands were tied behind the backrest of the chair and his feet were tied together as well. His head was hanging down so that all that Mello and Ross could see was his gray hair.

In front of the old man stood too large, and younger, men. One of them was black and the other white. The black man was called Pedro Kollet, and the white one Eddie Ramirez. Kollet was wearing a white sports jacket, black trousers, a purple shirt, and a gold necklace. Eddie was dressed more soberly in a black suit with matching black tie and a white shirt. Both Kollet and Eddie were breathing heavier than usual. It was quite obvious that they had been roughing up, as the phrase goes, the old man.

In the years immediately after the death of L, Mello had left Wammy's House, had traveled to Japan where he spent the next three and a half years gathering information pertaining to the Kira investigation and had managed to find out four crucial facts.

First, that the mass-murderer Kira used a magical notebook as a weapon. All that he needed to do was write the name of the person he wished to kill while thinking of his or her face. Secondly, that there had been, until then, three Kiras, that the first two were collaborators and that the third one had been captured immediately prior to being executed by either the first or the second Kira. Thirdly, that unlike the first and the third Kira, the second Kira seemed to need only a face and not a name in order to kill a person with the notebook. Finally, Mello had also found out that the Japanese National Police Agency possessed a notebook they obtained when they cornered the third Kira. But since the killings had continued after the death of the third Kira, that meant that there had to be at least one other notebook out there.

Furthermore, he had come to suspect that Kira—probably the first one—might even be one of the members of the Task Force set up by L to capture Kira, and that Kira might be the one who was now impersonating L, since L's death was never reported to the ICPO and someone continued to operate using L's title.

Every time Mello thought about the fact that there was some moron going around pretending to be L and getting nowhere in his pursuit of Kira, and inevitably damaging L's reputation, his pulse quickened in anger. _That's probably Kira's objective in doing this though_ , he thought, _if it turns out that Kira is the fake L._

Having collected as much information as was possible to _him_ , a nobody with no connections to the police, he had departed to Los Angeles where he joined a mafia group and ascended through their ranks until he became the strategist—though not the boss—of their syndicate. As a tribute to his position in their group, the other members addressed him as "Little Boss" when speaking over the phone or the radio—they never used their nicknames and aliases, let alone real names in their communications—to distinguish him from Ross who was the "Big Boss". They had responded warmly, if not outright enthusiastically, to his plan to destroy Kira, which ought not to surprise anyone: the mafia had existential reasons to defy the false god, and every syndicate in the United States had been trying to find a way to destroy this mortal enemy.

In order to gather further information about the progress of the Kira investigation, and as a way to gain sufficient leverage to demand that the NPA hand over the notebook in their possession, and thus find a way to capture Kira and avenge (and surpass) L, Mello had ordered some of the men in their group to capture the director of the NPA, Kanichi Takimura, the man that was now tied to a swivel chair in a dank cellar in an abandoned factory somewhere in—or around—Los Angeles.

Admittedly, this was, perhaps, not the most ethical path or set of actions that Mello could have taken in his pursuit of vengeance and glory—he did not know which was more important to him—but Mello did not care about the means he used to get to Kira, he cared only about the result, and at the moment things were going well for him. _Anyway,_ he would often think, _the mafia are less likely to surrender to Kira, while many police forces around the world have already decided to capitulate to his demands, and at least this mafia crew is not that bad. What they do might be illegal, but they are just here to provide a service._ Not counting, of course, the times they had been "compelled" to "take out" rival gangsters in order to continue providing the goods and services that were in high-demand: drugs, prostitution, weapons, etc. But when one wishes to assuage one's own conscience one is more than willing to overlook certain things.

Taking in the sight before him Mello snapped a chunk of his chocolate bar with his teeth, alerting the men inside of his presence, before stepping in. Standing at a distance from the hitherto sole occupants of the room, Ross was the first one to speak. "Has he decided to say anything yet?" He asked.

It was Kollet who replied. "He told us that Japanese policemen have wimped out on Kira. Looks like right now the only ones who are officially working for L are Soichiro Yagami, Kanzo Mogi, and Touta Matsuda," he informed Ross, "isn't that right?" he asked the bound man.

"Yeah," the old man confirmed, clearly straining to regain his breath, "there was also Ukita, but he was killed by Kira."

"Right." Kollet snorted disdainfully. "And as top cop somehow you didn't know that this notebook even existed. Or that you had it." He taunted the, quite literally, beaten man.

Eddie laughed as he leaned towards their hostage, "Japanese cops must be a joke," he said mockingly.

Finally, Mello stepped forward until he was face to face with their hostage, and looked down upon the captured Director of the NPA with narrowed eyes. "Of all the investigators on the task force, Deputy Director Yagami would be the highest ranking right?" Unlike Kollet and Eddie he spoke more softly, but nevertheless decidedly, and his tone suggested that he was not going to wait long for an answer.

"Ye-yeah," the Director stuttered his reply as he continued to gasp.

Mello chuckled as he took another bite of chocolate. _I was right to have the Yagami family followed by our men in Japan._ He thought. _I know that Kira has ways of getting information from within the police, that much is certain. I don't think that Yagami, as the Deputy Director, will abstain from warning the entire NPA and the Japanese Police of Director Takimura's kidnapping. It's what any rational person would do. If Kira is working for the Task Force and is the fake L—as I am almost sure he is—then I don't doubt that he will kill Takimura to get out of the deal._

 _If that happens, or rather, **when** that happens, I will order the men we have stationed in Japan to kidnap a member of Yagami's family, most likely, Sayu Yagami. Afterwards, I will inform the members of the Task Force of Takimura's death and take the blame for it and extend a new deal with Sayu Yagami instead. I can even tell them that Takimura died as a result of torture or stress caused by his confinement. Soichiro Yagami will not tell the NPA about the second kidnapping to prevent a panic crisis and a loss of confidence among the Japanese Police, and, of course, to save his daughter from Kira. This will cement the atmosphere of distrust between the Task Force and the rest of the NPA and the Japanese Police. Moreover, he will be far more willing to accept the terms of the deal._

 _If Kira is not a member of the Task Force, he might guess why Takimura was kidnapped and decide to kill him to prevent the exchange, but he will have no idea of Sayu Yagami's capture and will think that the problem has been solved. If Kira is the fake L, however, he won't kill Sayu Yagami anyway, as it would be too suspicious if Sayu Yagami were to die because of Kira, seeing how no one but the members of the Task Force and ourselves would know of her kidnapping. And of course, if Sayu Yagami dies they will suspect Kira of being behind her death, and not us, because it would make no sense for us to kill off our hostage; since she is not a member of the NPA we would get no valuable information by torturing her, so it would make no sense to submit her to it, which would mean that she could not die as a result of excessive force. In addition, Sayu Yagami is too young to die from the stress of being kidnapped, unlike Takimura, which eliminates that other possible cause of death. Therefore, the only one who would kill Sayu Yagami under these circumstances, would be Kira._

Satisfied with his train of thought, Mello curled his fingers into a fist with only his index finger and his thumb extended outwards as he raised his hand and pointed his index finger towards the ceiling. "My theory is that there are two notebooks out there." He announced confidently. "One of them is in Kira's possession. The other is with the NPA."

He closed his fist and brought it towards his chest before speaking again. "We are gonna take both of them." He said boldly. Kollet and Eddie exchanged puzzled and skeptical looks.

"Don't worry," Ross said smirking, "as long as we do what Mello says, there will be no mistakes. It's been a year and a half since he joined us, and in that entire time he's never been wrong about anything."

"Yeah, but that's what's so weird," interjected Eddie, "if he was able to bring us the head of a mafia boss that even Kira himself couldn't kill, why the hell would he even need the notebook to begin with?" he asked Ross. The mafia boss in question had been one Mr. Wallace—false name, you understand?—the head of a rival mob crew. He had eventually abandoned L.A. and resettled elsewhere (San Diego, to be precise). Mello's capture and execution of Wallace had catapulted him to his current position.

"It's not just the notebook I'm after... I wanna eliminate my competition" Mello growled in reply as he crumpled the now empty silver foil wrapper of his chocolate bar. "I will be the best!" he snarled. _I don't care what it takes,_ he thought to himself, _I'll beat Near by any means necessary._

Ah, Near. Aside from capturing and killing Kira to both avenge L and surpass his great mentor, Mello's other goal in life was to surpass Near. Like Mello, Near had grown up in Wammy's House. Like Mello, Near's country of birth was unknown. And, also like Mello, Near's name was unknown to virtually everyone. The current caretaker of the Winchester orphans and the late Watari, it should go without saying, did not count.

Perhaps, if things had been different Mello would have grown to like Near, but the environment at Wammy's was not particularly encouraging of friendship. The boys and girls there were urged to compete for the trophy of becoming the best and thus be nominated as L's successor. Friendship was only possible among those who desisted, or between those who quit and those who stayed on the race.

But it was impossible between Mello and Near. They were the best among the prodigy orphans. And Mello had almost always come second to Near. There were only two areas where he had managed to outmatch Near, languages—since he had taken it upon himself to learn eight languages, aside from his mother language, and spoke all of them _very_ fluently—and independence. In all other areas Near beat him.

And now, by confronting the NPA he was coming one step closer towards achieving all three of his objectives. If he was able to catch Kira, then he would have his revenge on the serial killer, he would surpass L, and he would triumph over Near.

He then remembered something Kollet had told him about the information they, ahem, _procured_ from Takimura. "Director Kanichi Takimura," he said as he turned to face the older man and glared at him, "is there anyone who's unofficially working in the Kira investigation?"

"Wha-What?" Takimura mumbled.

Mello narrowed his eyes, "is there anyone who's _unofficially_ " _—he_ emphasized the word this time—"working for the Kira Task Force?"

"I-I don't know," Takimura stuttered unconvincingly looking away.

"Takimura-san," Mello said softly, using the Japanese honorific for ambiguous purposes. The Director could interpret it as a sign of respect or as a an act of mockery. Takimura lifted his eyes towards him again. "I don't wish to hurt you more than necessary, but if you insist on not cooperating with me, I might _have to_ let my men here proceed with the questioning instead of me."

Takimura's eyes widened in fear. There was no ambiguity left in Mello's words this time. It was patently clear what he would do if Takimura did not collaborate. He had once been a brave and strong detective, but that was in the past, he was now an old bureaucrat who wished to stay alive and return to his family.

"So, what's it gonna be, Takimura?" Mello asked with a snarl.

"Well, there are two more detectives working on the case informally," he finally said, defeated, lowering his head once more. But this time, it was not to hide a transparent attempt at deception. He did it out of shame. There was no point in resisting. _He would find out some other way, anyway,_ he reasoned, rationalizing his actions away. "Shuichi Aizawa," he began, "who had briefly left the Kira Task Force at one point but returned shortly after, and Hideki Ide, who left the Task Force shortly after its inception and only resumed working for the Task Force some time after the capture of the third Kira, Kyosuke Higuchi."

Kollet and Eddie laughed at the pathetic performance of the NPA Director, Ross merely grinned by the door-side which he had never left. "Is that all?" Mello questioned him, his right eyebrow raised.

"There is a third unofficial member but I swear on my life that I don't know who he is." Takimura answered desperately. "All I know is that Yagami and the others trust him."

 _The fake L? If even Takimura does not know his identity then that is probably the case,_ Mello thought before speaking once more. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Takimura, I hope that you will be able to rejoin your family soon." He smiled. "I have no interest in taking your life." He finished sincerely. Though he was almost certain that Kira would kill Takimura, Mello did not want the old man to die, he just thought that it was unstoppable—like the march of time.

He turned around and walked towards the door grabbing another chocolate bar out of an inside pocket of his coat. "Kollet, Eddie," he called from the door, Ross ready to step out after him, "make sure you keep an eye on our hostage." He ordered. "He's very valuable."

And with that he left the cellar with Rod Ross and walked up the stairs to the ground floor of the factory.

* * *

 _ **October 11th, 2012. 10:00 Tokyo Time.**_

 _ **Director's office, National Police Agency.**_

Former Chief Inspector and current Deputy Director Soichiro Yagami sighed as he sat on the Director's chair in the Director's office, his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands. The Venetian blinds were drawn behind him, through which some light filtered into the dark room. He had been required, by formal procedure, to assume the post of Kanichi Takimura, while the Director was absent.

Soichiro Yagami was a model detective. He was brave, intelligent, bold, efficient, and possessed more determination than most of the members of the NPA. He had once harbored a respect for the rules and guidelines which circumscribed the actions of the police that bordered on the fanatical. He was not a religious man, but to him the word of the Law was as binding and finite as the _ex cathedra_ pronouncements of the Holy Father were to Catholics. Or at least, it had been. Ever since he joined the Kira Task Force he had been forced to comprise with his ideals and principles which were a continual source of regret to him.

In addition to his regret, Soichiro Yagami felt stressed. And by stressed I mean that he was a wreck. Over the last six years he had experienced more stress than in all the previous years of his life. First, there had been the initially fruitless efforts to catch Kira. This was followed by a particularly grim period during which he had been forced to endure having his own son, the source of pride of his family, accused of being Kira, which had culminated in Raito's—and Raito's girlfriend's—prolonged confinement. As if that had not been enough he had spent that same time confined in a cell waiting until either Raito was exonerated or convicted. Fortunately, his son was eventually released and cleared of the charges.

For a brief period of time, Soichiro Yagami had allowed himself to hope that his troubles would soon come to an end. But that was not to be. Just as his son was proven innocent, Ryuzaki—the man otherwise known as L—had been murdered, along with L's assistant, Watari, by a Shinigami who, no doubt, wished to protect Kira or avenge the death of the third Kira.

Since that time the attainment of the Task Force's objective, the capture of Kira, had continued to elude him, which had been a blow to his pride. He had begun to think that, perhaps, he was not as good a detective as he had once fancied himself to be. Finally, to add to his troubles and his wounded ego, Director Kanichi Takimura had been kidnapped by heavens knew who and the kidnappers had demanded the Death Note they had acquired from Higuchi in exchange for Takimura's life.

And so now he sat on the Director's chair, wondering whether or not he was a failure, feeling like he did not deserve to have come so far in his career, and waiting impatiently for any information that was even remotely relevant to the latest problem facing him and the rest of the NPA.

Suddenly, the telephone on the desk rung out loudly. In a flash, he picked up the receiver and pressed a button to pass the caller through. Anxiously, and before asking who was calling, Soichiro Yagami blurted out his question, "has there been a call from the suspects?"

Aizawa's stoic voice came through the phone in reply. "No. There's a visitor here who wants to meet with Director Takimura."

"What?" he asked perplexed.

"A man claiming to be an FBI agent is here. He wishes to speak with the Director. He claims that it is of the utmost importance." Aizawa replied wearily and unfazed.

Yagami hesitated for a second. "Send him in." He replied finally.

A moment later a man with a square face, a large nose, and light brown hair, which was swept to the left at the front, wearing a black suit with a gray shirt, walked into his office. He pulled out an identification card as he introduced himself. "My name is John McEnroe. I'm an agent with the FBI" He said calmly in slightly accented Japanese, before tucking his I.D. back into the inside pocket of his suit. "Of course, this is just an alias," he continued spreading his arms outwards as he explained, "as my assignment involves Kira, it's a necessary precaution, you understand?"

"Kira?" Yagami said puzzled by the fact that the FBI had seemingly decided to rejoin the hunt for Kira. After the deaths of the twelve FBI. agents that L had ordered to come to Japan to aid in the Kira investigation, the FBI had discontinued their efforts to assist the Kira Task Force.

Yagami then regained his composure. "Due to unforeseen circumstances the Director is unavailable," he explained coolly. "You can speak with me, instead, if that's acceptable."

"Very well, that's fine," McEnroe replied offhandedly. "Pardon me, I'll get straight to the point." Typically American, right? "The Japanese Police have proven themselves to be incompetent in their attempts to find and arrest Kira. The NPA has been unreliable in this matter." Yagami glared at the agent as McEnroe spoke. "Therefore, the FBI has decided that it will take over from the NPA, and to ensure the success of our investigation, we request that you hand over the notebook that we know to be in your position, to us." He finished smugly. Though he said that it was request his tone suggested that he was actually demanding that Yagami hand over the notebook.

Yagami was momentarily startled by the demand before he grit his teeth. _Could it be that the FBI staged the kidnapping of the Director in order to obtain the notebook?_ He thought. "So it was the FBI that captured Takimura?" He asked the agent angrily.

McEnroe appeared to be confused by the question, but the Deputy Director did not buy his act. He walked towards McEnroe and grabbed him by the collar of his suit jacket. "Tell me, where have you taken Takimura?" he demanded, snarling at the agent who was even more nonplussed by this display.

"What are you talking about?" McEnroe said annoyed with the sudden harsh treatment he was getting from Yagami.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about?" Yagami snapped. "This is a serious criminal offense, and a breach of international law."

"What the hell are you going on about? What would we gain by kidnapping the Director of the NPA?" McEnroe shouted back as he struggled to break free from Yagami's grip.

"Then how do you know about the notebook?" Yagami responded. "No one outside of the Task Force knew about the existence of the notebook."

McEnroe looked embarrassed, which was just as well. The fact of the matter is that he actually knew how his superiors had managed to acquire the relevant information, but it would be impossible for him to reply to Yagami honestly. For a moment, neither of them spoke, and McEnroe was sure that Yagami was taking his silence as a confirmation of every suspicion he had about the FBI. A few seconds later, though, he heard a familiar baritone voice speak into his right ear through the earpiece he was wearing.

"Agent McEnroe, you have new orders." The voice informed him, in English. "Near wants you to offer the NPA our help in locating the Director and finding the culprits behind the kidnapping. Desist of any attempt to obtain the notebook for the moment. You are to tell him about the SPK but do not tell Yagami about Near. He's not to know about Near's existence yet. Neither are you to tell him that we know the real L is dead"

"Understood," McEnroe whispered in the same language, startling Yagami who released McEnroe and stepped back.

"Deputy Director Yagami, I must ask that you apologize for demanding the handover of the notebook." McEnroe said, changing back to Japanese.

"What?" Yagami said, shocked at both the change of attitude from McEnroe and his nonchalance. "Do you think I will let this go that easily?" It was a rhetorical question of course.

"Deputy Director, if you will allow me to, I will explain myself." McEnroe replied calmly.

"Fine," Yagami conceded, "but make it quick."

McEnroe nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Mr. Yagami. I am a member of a recently organized investigation team created by the United States government to go after Kira and work independently of L." He began. "We are called the Special Provision for Kira, otherwise referred to as the SPK."

"Why would the United States do such a thing? Do they no longer trust L?" Yagami asked with concern showing in his voice. Not only was it worrying that the US had decided to act against L's orders, but the fact that they did not trust L meant that they might have realized that the real L—Ryuzaki—was dead, even if they did not know that it was his son, Raito, who was acting as L. If this got out to other police agencies around the world, it would create chaos and panic among the remaining police forces which were still working against Kira. It would undermine the very reason why Raito had acceded to taking L's place. Fortunately, McEnroe's next words reassured him that no one had found out Ryuzaki was dead.

"The top officials of the US government are dissatisfied with L's performance, it has been six years since he was commissioned by the ICPO to find and apprehend Kira, but he has failed to do so, we believe that he is no longer competent to solve this case," McEnroe lied. "Which is why they secretly formed the SPK. Our agents were drawn from the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA, we believe that should be sufficient to match and outperform L."

"Is that so?" Yagami muttered before raising his voice again. "But what does this have to do with the notebook?"

"Like I said earlier we wished to receive the notebook in order to speed along our search for Kira. However, given the current situation, the SPK would like to offer you and the NPA it's full support in the quest to rescue Director Kanichi Takimura."

For a rather long moment Yagami stared at McEnroe, considering the offer of assistance. He was not particularly keen on accepting aid from an organization so brazenly undiplomatic and impolite as the SPK had proven itself to be, but at the same time he could not reject it. Saving Takimura's life was more important than the pride of the NPA. "Very well then, I accept your offer." He said finally, though tensely. "I will now go to Task Force headquarters and inform the other members of what has transpired here." His tone made it obvious that the insult to the Japanese Police was not forgotten, let alone forgiven.

"Good," McEnroe replied laconically. He was somewhat relieved that Yagami had accepted their offer. The SPK had certainly gotten off the wrong foot with the NPA, which would make cooperating with them harder as the NPA would likely distrust the SPK.

"After you," Yagami said as he pointed to the office door.

"Of course," McEnroe said as he walked over to the door and stepped out of the office, Soichiro Yagami following closely behind.

* * *

 _ **October 11th, 2012. 14:00 Tokyo Time.**_

 _ **An apartment somewhere in Tokyo.**_

Raito Yagami, aka L, aka the real Kira, stood alone in the office room of the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Misa Amane who, rather conveniently, was the second Kira. Three hours had passed since his father had arrived at Task Force headquarters and told them of what had occurred in his office. Twenty hours had gone by since they had learned of Director Takimura's kidnapping.

And so, taking advantage of their lunch break, Raito had retired to his own apartment with the excuse of eating lunch with his girlfriend, but in truth he now stood pondering about his next move over the Death Note he had acquired from Rem when the Shinigami had died, leaving only the notebook and dust behind.

 _If I kill Takimura,_ Raito thought, _people might begin to suspect that Kira is either a member of the Task Force or has ways of obtaining information from them. If that happens, then it would cause people to suspect the Task Force, and it would not take long for the SPK to begin suspecting L._ He continued worriedly. _However, if I don't do anything, I will lose the Death Note that is in the possession of the Task Force to whoever it is that captured Takimura. At this rate the notebook will fall into the hands of criminals. I can't let that happen, but I have no way of stopping it._ He paused for a moment before inspiration hit him.

 _No, wait. It could be assumed that Kira just **learned** that Takimura had been kidnapped and guessed the reason why. In fact, if I postulate that theory then the other members at Task Force will buy it. As for the SPK, they will have no reason to suspect me of being Kira because they do not know that Ryuzaki is dead and that the current L is a fake, furthermore, no one actually knows that I work for the Task Force. All that people know is that I have joined the NPA, and since I still solve other cases while working for the Task Force during my "spare time", there are no clues to link me to the Task Force. _ He cackled silently to himself for a moment. _As for the kidnappers, once they lose their bargaining chip they will have to give up their attempt to obtain the notebook._

 _And to think that I was actually worried of being found out. Well, now I know that there is only one thing that can be done, that must be done. It will be perfect._ He picked up his Mont Blanc pen—courtesy of his father—and opened the Death Note to the last page he had used. _I am sorry, Takimura, you were always a good man, even if you have grown cowardly and weak, but I cannot allow my father to go through with the trade. The Death Note is far more valuable than your life._ Without hesitation he wrote an entry into the notebook which read _Kanichi Takimura, Suicide_.

With a final smile, he closed the notebook and hid it in the false bottom of the top drawer of his desk again. He then walked out of his office and headed for the door of his apartment, saying goodbye to Misa on his way out.

* * *

 _ **October 10th, 2012. 22:00 Pacific Time.**_

 _ **Somewhere in Los Angeles, California.**_

Mello was sitting on the backrest of a striped white couch in the hideout's makeshift game room in a room which had once been the manager's office, eating a chocolate bar, one foot resting on the top of the couch, and the other leg dangling in front of him.

Beside him, to his left and on the actual seat of the couch, sat a young woman who went by the nickname "Panther", she was one of Rod's girls. Right next to Panther sat Rod Ross himself, shirtless—showing off his buff figure to the girl—one arm around his woman while his other hand held a glass of champagne. To Mello's right sat Rashual Bid, a man with tanned skin and short black hair, wearing a red collared shirt and brown trousers.

The atmosphere in the room was light and relaxed, which was just as well, for they were having a good time and their plans were working perfectly. Mello expected that in a few moments either Rashual and himself would be dismissed to leave Ross and Panther alone, or the latter two would retire to Rod's sleeping quarters.

Suddenly, as he bit off another chunk of his chocolate bar and allowed the the bittersweet piece to melt in his mouth, Mello heard hurried footsteps echoing through the airy halls of the factory, coming in their direction. In a moment the door swung open and there stood Kollet panting breathlessly and with a shocked expression in his face, as he called out "Boss!" startling everyone present.

"Shut up," Rod said annoyed. He hated it when his underlings interrupted him when he was having fun, specially when he was about to move on to the next level of fun. "Can't you see that I'm busy?" he asked rhetorically.

"I'm sorry," Pedro gasped, "but Eddie and I were talking for a minute and it looks like Takimura hung himself with his tie somehow." He said in a rush. _What? So has Kira made his move, then?_ Mello thought, _well then, it looks like I will have to go with Plan B._

"What's wrong with you?" Rod snarled. "Just great, what are we supposed to do with a dead hostage?" Another rhetorical question. Everything about him, from his tone to his facial expressions, suggested that Kollet would get a beating.

Quickly, Mello moved in to cool down the tension in the room. "No, this will be just fine." _If Kira is responsible for this then we know he can't touch us since he doesn't know our names or faces, that's why he went after Takimura instead. And now we know for sure that Kira is someone who knows about the kidnapping, which means that he must be working for the police, and he must know or suspect why Takimura was kidnapped in the first place, which means he has access to information that is only available to the Task Force. That should make things rather... interesting._

"So, what are we gonna do, Mello?" Ross asked, calmed now that Mello had spoken. He had come to rely on Mello to decide their every move, and if Mello was not upset by the new turn of events, then it meant that there was nothing for him to worry about.

"I'll tell you what we're gonna do," Mello said confidently with a smirk on his lips, "we are gonna kidnap Soichiro Yagami's daughter, Sayu Yagami."

Ross was shocked by Mello's decision. It was unlike Mello to involve women in their operations, specially innocent women. It was already rare among members of the Mafia, but they were more likely to do it if they thought they had no other choice but to do it.

"Are you sure about this, Mello?" Ross asked. Not that he was concerned, but it was just weird for Mello to suggest that kind of plan.

"Yeah. The people we have in Japan right now are Zack, Roy, and Skyer, right?" Mello asked.

"Yeah, that's right." Ross replied. "Not counting our other contacts."

"Good. Pedro, contact them right away. Tell them to kidnap the Yagami girl. They have been following the movements of the Yagami family throughout the past two months, they should be able to figure out the best time and place to do so. Tell them to do it quickly, and to avoid using **any** form of violence." Mello ordered quickly. "We don't want the girl getting hurt. We have to uphold as best as possible our end of the deal. She's only a girl so they shouldn't need to use violence to subdue her anyway."

"Don't worry, Mello. I'll tell 'em." Kollet replied. He turned to leave before Mello stopped him.

"I'm not done yet." He said, and Kollet turned to face him again. "Once they have her, have Roy and Skyer bring her over to Los Angeles, but tell Zack to stay in Japan, he will come back later. Have them travel on that private jet we bought recently. We used fake identities and ghost bank accounts so they shouldn't be able to trace it back to any of us." he continued. "And that way we can avoid a lot of problems. Once they've arrived, I will tell José to pick them up at the airport."

"Understood, Little Boss," Kollet said, immediately switching to the use of code names. He might not be very bright, but Kollet was efficient and reliable. "I'll go call Zack right now." Having said that he left the room.

Mello turned to Rashual. "Go call José and tell him about his new assignment. He needs to be on standby."

"Sure thing, Mello." Rashual said and he stood up to leave the room.

"So, what's the plan now, Mello?" Ross asked once only Mello, Panther, and himself were left in the room.

Mello smirked. "I will tell you later." Later. That meant _after you're done playing with Panther._ Ross understood and nodded, standing up and heading for his room, Panther walking beside him, leaving Mello alone in game room.

"Everything is going just as I planned." Mello muttered to himself, taking a final chunk of the chocolate bar.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, I just left you in suspense. Cliché, yes, but necessary.

This is the first fanfic I've published. I've been reading stories in this site for a while now but I've never actually gotten around to write my own—until now. So, if anyone reads this, I would appreciate some reviews. I hope you guys (and gals) like it. Criticism is welcome, but no flaming.

Now, as to what I'm planning to do with the story... This fic is going to be focused around Mello. He's my second favorite Death Note character. I will include sections written from the POV of other characters though. I'm going to follow the canon storyline slightly for a while, but I'll change certain elements of differing importance. However, after I reach a particular point in this story it will change a lot from the original storyline. Like it says in the summary, I plan to have Mello capture Kira, not Near.

There will be some romance but not much, so I'm not going to file this story under that genre. This will be a MelloxSayu fic. I've read some great fanfics about that pairing and I was sold on it.

I was not sure at first if I should write "Raito" or "Light". I decided to go with Raito since, "technically" that's the real way to pronounce his name—as far I am aware. To anyone who reads this: which do you think I should use. I would like some feedback on that issue. For a minute I thought of using the Japanese name order of when writing from the POV of a Japanese character (like in the scene above with Soichiro Yagami) but then decided against it because... I'm lazy. I could come up with a better excuse but it would be dishonest of me to do so.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, nor any of its characters, settings, plots, or soundtracks. If I did, I wouldn't have killed Naomi Misora off._

 _Warning: there will be some profanity in this chapter._

* * *

 **Chapter 2:**

 _ **October 11th, 2012. 14:15 Tokyo Time.**_

 _ **A street in Shinjuku, Tokyo.**_

Inside a black station wagon with black tinted windows sat three men. Two of them sat in the front seats of the car, the third one sat at the back. The man seating in the front passenger seat and the man at the back were both white, the man on the wheel, however, had a darker skin color.

The men at the front were wearing black leather jackets, blue jeans and polo shirts, the black man was wearing a red shirt and the white man wore a green one, their hands were covered by leather gloves. The man at the back, on the other hand, wore a gray suit with a blue tie, he too was wearing gloves.

Both the driver and backseat passenger had long blond hair. However, the hair of the driver was frizzled and obviously dyed while that of the man in the suit was natural and straight. The man on the front passenger seat had short cropped black hair.

The natural blond looked calm but serious as he held a black cellphone to his ear. The men in the front wore attentive and vigilant expressions on their faces, as if they were paying just as much attention to what was going on outside as to the conversation the other man was having by listening to the snippets of his side of the call. By the frowns that decorated their faces and deepened with every second it was clear that they were not getting much.

"Will that be all?" the blond man said, wounding up the chat he was having. Though to call it a chat might be misleading. "Of course I understood. I already said that..." he sounded annoyed. "Look, I get it. No unnecessary force... Yes, that's what I meant, no force at all... Yes, we'll use the Gulfstream... Don't worry, it won't take long. Tell the Little Boss to be patient... Goodbye then." He finished as he ended the call by sliding his finger over the surface of the phone. Gone were the days when people snapped their phones shut, and even more lost to the human experience was the action of slamming a phone down to end a call. These days only a slide sufficed to end a conversation. It did not allow for people to let their steam off.

"So, I take it we have new orders, Zack." the front passenger stated, glancing at the man in the back through the rear-view mirror.

"That's right, Roy." Zack replied. "The hostage is dead."

"What?" The driver exclaimed, "after all the trouble we went through to get the top cop for the Little Boss, they go and kill him off? What kind of fuckin' amateurs were interrogating him?" He finished angrily.

"Calm down, Skyer." Zack ordered. "The Little Boss thinks that it was Kira who killed him. He's probably right. Kira must have learned of the kidnapping and the purpose behind it and moved accordingly.

"Really?" Roy asked. "What kinda dumbass is this Kira anyway? Now we _know_ that he must be involved with the pigs, right?"

"We already suspected that, but you are right, this confirms it." The blond said, still calm. "And for your information, Skyer, it was Kollet and Eddie who interrogated the hostage. They are no amateurs. Though I would like to see you call them that."

"What? you think I'm scared of Kollet?" Skyer demanded. "They're nothin' compared to me."

Roy laughed. "Yeah right! Those guys have been in the crew long before you joined us."

Skyer furrowed his brows. "What do you know? You joined after I did."

"So? I'm still better than you."

Skyer raised his voice. "Oh yeah? You think you're better than me? Is that it? You think you are better than me?"

"Both of you, cut it out." Zack ordered, interrupting their solo flaunting. "We've got a task at hand."

Roy sighed. "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

Skyer exhaled heavily before turning his head slightly to gaze back at the suited man. "So what are we gonna do now? Do we need to go back home for this new job?" Skyer asked hopefully. He was getting tired of Japan. They all were.

"No such luck." The suited man replied. "We will have to get another hostage for the Little Boss. But don't worry, you'll get to go back to L.A. after this."

"Cool." Roy said. "So who's the target this time?" he asked almost cheerfully.

"Deputy Director Yagami's daughter." Zack replied soberly.

Skyer looked confused. "The girl? What the hell does the Little Boss want with the little girl? He's never asked us to kidnap a girl before. Unless he wants her for—"

"It's nothing like that." Zack cut him off.

"Then what's up?" It was Roy this time, turning around in his seat to face Zack. "Why the girl? It's not like she can tell us anything. Cops don't usually tell their kids about their work, you know? And this Yagami guy is like the best of the best, ain't he? He wouldn't spill the beans at home."

"We are not doing it to get intel." The darkly dressed man responded, shaking his head. "We are doing it because the girl would make a better hostage."

"What d'ya mean?" the black man asked.

"Well, the cops are not going to tell everyone that the daughter of the Deputy Director got herself kidnapped, right after the top dog of the NPA got captured." Zack explained. "That would make them look bad."

"Yeah, you're right." Skyer agreed.

"It would also mean that Kira would have no way of knowing that a second hostage was taken," the man in charge continued, "which would make the trade more likely to take place."

"All right. Then the kid it is." Roy said turning to face the front again.

Zack leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes. "There's more. The Little Boss was adamant that the girl is not to be harmed."

"What the hell does he think we are? A bunch of fucking noobs?" Skyer said indignantly. "Of course we ain't gonna hurt the girl. The fuck..."

"Hopefully not." the blond replied. "But Takimura was already a bit roughed up when he was handed over to the boss."

"Yeah, well, no shit he was roughed up." Roy interjected sarcastically. "He might have been a bit old, but a guy like that ain't gonna go down without a few punches. This a girl we talkin' about now. It'll be easy to nab her quietly."

"You better be right about that, Roy. Or the Little Boss will have your ass," Zack said. "Because from what Kollet told me, I figure that the Little Boss doesn't even want a small bruise or a scratch on the kid, and I won't take the blame for any fuck ups."

"Don't sweat it, Zack. We got it covered. Besides, you're here to 'supervise', ain't ya?" Skyer said calmly. "If you see us getting too rough with the girl you can tell us to ease up."

"Good." the blond man said coolly, opening his eyes again. "Then, when do you guys think we should do it?"

"Quarter to four." Skyer answered. "She goes through that little park a few blocks from her house everyday at a quarter to four. It's always empty at that time of the day."

"What, is the girl like obsessive-compulsive?" Zack asked.

"Nah," The black man replied waving his hand. "But everyone's got their habits. People always take the same route home, go through the same streets and everything. Hell, I bet even you do." The dyed blond man explained. "And this girl walks into that park everyday at quarter to four. Sometimes it's at twenty to four, when she's skipping or running home, sometimes it's at ten to four when she's tired."

"You certain of that?" He asked.

"One hundred percent." Skyer nodded. "Here," he grabbed a little black notebook out of his pocket and showed it to Zack. "It's all in here. Every detail of the girl's movements for the last two months."

Zack smirked as he took the notebook and leafed through it. "You sound like a stalker."

Skyer smiled. "That was job though, wasn't it? To stalk the girl and her mother? It ain't my fault if I sound like a fuckin' freak now."

Roy looked back at Zack again. "Okay, so we get the girl, then what?"

"Then, you two board the Gulfstream jet we have waiting at the airport while I stay behind. Kollet said that the Little Boss has another mission for me in Japan."

Skyer placed the palms of his palms together and looked up. "Thank God we are getting out of this dump! The only decent food you can get around here is from fast-food joints. Everything else is fuckin' seafood and nasty spices. Yuck!"

Zack snorted. "Yeah, well at least you can eat burgers here, back home your wife won't let you touch meat, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, well everything's got it's good side." Skyer muttered. "Even this hellhole."

"And these people are so fuckin' serious, Jeez." Roy added. "I gotta say, Zack, it really sucks to be you right now."

Zack scowled as the other two laughed. "Fuck you, Roy."

After that, the three men sat in almost absolute silence for a while inside the car, as people passed them by on the sidewalk. Eventually, Roy spoke again.

"You know, I still don't get why we gotta take orders from the Little Boss."

"Cause, he's the smartest in the group that's why." Zack snapped.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know _that_. But I still think we should only get orders from the Big Boss."

"Yeah well, why don't you look at this way: it's an order from the Big Boss that we do as the Little Boss says," Zack said. "Does that satisfy you?"

They were silent again for a while. Skyer looked nervously at Zack through the rear-view mirror and then at Roy.

"You know, it's gonna be a while before the girl get's off school... why don't we go eat somethin'? Chill down a bit before we make our move."

"All right." Roy said. "But no fuckin' burgers this time. I want a pizza."

Zack shook his head. "Let's get some burgers with fries. It's easier to eat them in the car."

"Yeah, well we ain't gonna go buy food in this fuckin' car." Skyer said. "The less people see this car, the better."

Zack glanced at Skyer. "Well, then one of you better get cracking and go buy some food for us, 'cause I am not going."

"Dibs on staying in the car," Skyer called out.

Roy glared at him as Zack spoke. "There's a joint around the corner, Roy."

"Oh shit..." was all Roy said as he opened the door and got out of the car.

* * *

 _ **October 11th, 2012. 15:35 Tokyo Time.**_

 _ **Somewhere in Shinjuku, Tokyo.**_

Sayu Yagami was a normal Japanese girl. She liked video games, pop music, soap operas, romantic comedies, light novels—specially the romantic ones—and she had a bubbly personality that in colder countries where people are grim (like Germany) might have been labeled "annoyingly cheerful" (when I think about it, I bet there's a German word for that). Indeed, due to the influence of certain television shows that will here go unnamed the perception, in popular culture, is that girls who like the sort of things that Miss Yagami liked—soap operas, awful music, and romantic fiction—are both stupid and superficial. I can attest from my own personal experience with such girls, and from my intimate knowledge of Sayu's psyche that such preconceptions are far from being true.

These are merely the assumptions dreamed up by grim and glum men who have no joy for life. Men who are all too serious, for whom seriousness is equivalent to ponderousness, who are antagonistic towards everything lighthearted, for whom cheerfulness is a sin. Grave men who carry themselves with gravity and make everything heavy, everything dull, who use their lexical chicanery as a barrier against the jovial, as if they were afraid that by enjoying something, (for once!) their intelligence, their wisdom would be diminished. Machine men with machine minds who wrap themselves up in their solemnity as if it were a badge of honor, when in truth it is nothing but a sign of their decadence, of the decadence of their bodies and minds; a mark of how rotten they are, to the core, with their nihilism, their hatred of life. However, we, we free-spirits, we are their antipodes! We are the opposite of everything nihilistic and life-denying. We are not afraid of the frivolous, indeed, we wish to make everything frivolous and trivial, to make everyone laugh at everything, to make everything worth laughing at...

Ahem... enough of that, I apologize, let's get back to Sayu Yagami.

Sayu was then returning home from university with the results of her latest round of midterm exams on her satchel. Her average grade was nine. Almost everywhere in the world, even in Japan, that would be considered a good grade. However, at the Yagami household, it was merely satisfactory.

Perhaps, if Light had never been born, or if he had not been born a genius, or if he was not a show off, or if Japanese student culture was not so demanding, Sayu's parents would have been more than happy to have a daughter who had such good grades. True, in high school her average grade had been somewhat lower or—for Yagami standards— _unacceptable_ , but that was because of Maths and Physics. She hated maths: she just didn't get it, it was too abstract, and since she had trouble understanding maths it was only natural that she would not do well in physics either, as maths is the language of physics—maybe even of the universe, according to the opinions of some lunatics, but we _won't_ get into that.

Either way, Sayu's grades were not quite as terrible as one would be led to believe if one were to take the words of the Yagami parents at face value. She had always done well in literature, in English class, in history, in philosophy, in biology, in chemistry. Sure, she was not always at the top of her class, but she had excellent grades in most subjects, though she tended to fare better in those subjects related to the humanities rather than in science, which is why she was now studying literature in college. The problem was that her grades were not perfect and had never been perfect and, after Raito, anything but perfection was not enough for Chief Yagami and his wife.

 _Why can't they just accept me for who I am?_ She would ask herself whenever her parents began to lecture her about her "merely satisfactory" grades, _maybe Raito is perfect but I am not, is that really so hard to get?_ She loved her parents, like most children do, specially her father whom she missed sorely since for the last six years he had spent very little of his time at home— _all because of that stupid Kira—_ but that did not mean that she was never angry with them. Only parents, being the fools they are, make that mistake, but that is because, at bottom, parents are dictators and, like dictators, they demand absolute and constant devotion, and nothing less. Sometimes she thought that they did not really love her, a feeling accentuated by her knowledge that her parents wished that she was more like Raito.

Contrary to what people might think, Sayu harbored no resentment towards her brother. They had once been very close, but he had grown distant in the last six years and, unlike a lot of Japanese young men these days, had moved out of the Yagami house before he had finished college to move in with his girlfriend. His visits since had been rare and short. She still loved him dearly, and was proud to have such an effortlessly brilliant and handsome man as her brother.

Nonetheless, she sometimes disliked the tone he used when he defended her from their parents, it was condescending. Almost as if Raito thought that the mere idea of Sayu achieving the same scores he did was ridiculous. Almost as if he thought that Sayu was not really intelligent.

And, in spite of her grades, this was a feeling that Sayu shared. She thought that she had high grades just because she studied a lot. She knew that Raito studied a lot as well but he made it seem so effortless compared to how she sometimes struggled to understand her courses, and even more to try to memorize the information provided in them. The fact that Raito believed that she was not very intelligent only confirmed her own suspicions of her inferiority. _If Raito thinks so, then it's probably true_ , she reasoned to herself as she walked home, when the thought crossed her mind.

In truth, she was so convinced of her own limitations that she had simply stopped trying to get the best grades in any of her classes. The attitude of her parents certainly did not help to provide her with any encouragement. _Even if I did manage to get perfect scores in every class, or to come up at the top of the class in every subject all the time, Mom and Dad would think nothing of it,_ Sayu thought sadly. _They would simply think that I was doing my duty to honor the family and follow in Raito's footsteps... They would say that I was finally performing as they expected me to, as they had always wanted me to perform... They wouldn't make a big deal out of it, like other parents, because of Raito any achievement is not an honor anymore: it's a requirement..._ _I am the second child... Nothing really matters when you're just the second child... Everything I've ever done he has done before me, and it doesn't matter how much I try, I'll always be second best to our parents_.

"Second Best", she was certain that she was exactly that. Sometimes, when she was in a more positive mood Sayu would think that there were some things at which she was better than her brother. She had more friends than he did. It was true that Raito was popular, far more than Sayu, but she doubted that he had any real friends like she did. Unlike Sayu, Raito was cold and indifferent to other people, even towards his girlfriends, even towards his live-in girlfriend. But then she would remember that her parents appeared to value his popularity more than her close, but small, circle of friends. _They just don't get that having a few close friends is better than being in a crowd with no real friends._

Not even at sports, which she was really good at, could she beat him because Raito was also good. Maybe not quite as skillful as she was, but good enough, and given his grades their parents did not care much about it. They thought that it would be "unfair" to expect Raito to be great at sports as well as being a genius.

As for her looks, like with her grades, Sayu did not try to compare herself to her brother. She was pretty and cute and had received a lot of attention from boys during her time in junior high, and afterwards in high school, as well as in college. She tended to accept most of the invitations that she got from guys who wanted to date her, if only to avoid hurting their feelings, but she had never been on a second date with someone.

Whenever one of her girlfriends asked her about it, Sayu would reply that she had not met her soul-mate yet. Something that brought some relief to her father who, being a detective, was more overprotective about her than most fathers tend to be. (I should know, I once run out of a girlfriend's house when her cop father set the dogs on me. All because I said she was hot when he happened to be around).

However, once again, Raito was simply on another league. He was not just handsome. He was stunning. There was not a single girl in Raito's old high school, or in the junior high he had attended previously, or during his time in college, who did not want to date him. In fact, he was so attractive he had been asked out by every gay man his age. A fact that made Sayu laugh when she remembered it, though Raito, being the stuck up and serious kid he was, always scowled at her when she did so. _At least I don't have to worry about turning down girls._ She chuckled to herself.

 _He probably thinks that it is disrespectful for me to laugh at him_ , she thought as she reached the corner of the street before the park near her home. _That I am not showing him enough reverence_ , she thought sarcastically. Just because she loved her brother did not mean that she accepted his attitude. His god complex. His obsession with being right all the time.

Even the way they dressed reflected their psychological differences. He was always dressed impeccably. Sayu knew for a fact that Raito counted how many times he combed his hair every morning, and calculated to within a millimeter the position of his bangs. Not that it did him much good, the inevitable movement that is demanded by moving around and being alive undid his hard work.

He only wore suits these days, which were, without exception, clean and neat. Sayu, on the other hand, wore more casual clothes. At the moment, she was wearing a pair of jeans, a denim jacket, a pink blouse with a striped black and white shirt underneath. Very common, very mediocre, _just like me_ , she thought before shaking her head. _I am getting depressed. It's always like this when I get a report card._

She smiled as she looked up at the sky. _I should cheer up! Even if Mom gives me a nagging for my grades, my life's pretty sweet at the moment. I should stop thinking so much about what my parents think and just think about my future._ She breathed out easily, and continued walking home stepping lightly onto the grass of the then empty park. _Maybe my life won't be as exciting as Raito's, but I know I'll be just as successful and happy, maybe even happier than him. Who knows, maybe all I really need is to move to another country where no one has heard of Raito and where there will be no one comparing him to me all the time, like America. Yeah, I think I would like America. I love their literature and their films and their food and their music, so why not?_

At that very moment two men started to approach her. They were both dressed casually and just from looking at them she could tell that they were foreigners and most likely tourists, not only because they did not have Japanese facial features but also because one of them was clutching a map. As they got near one of them waved a gloved hand toward her which made her stop in her tracks as she turned to face the pair. She noticed they were much taller than she was. Then again, she was quite short, another feature of herself that she was not happy with, and she could see that both men wore leather gloves. _Makes sense in this weather,_ she thought to herself.

Once they reached her, the black man unfolded the map he held in his hand and spoke in heavily accented Japanese, " _We are lost. We need help."_

 _How did they get lost if they have a map?_ Sayu thought as she glanced at the man. As if reading her thoughts the man shifted until he was standing next to her and showed her the map. It was in Japanese.

" _Can't read Nihongo."_ He said laconically. She smiled at him.

" _Don't worry. I can help you."_ She leaned in closer to the map. " _Where do you want to go?"_ she asked cheerfully as she looked up again. The man simply looked back at her with a blank expression on her face. _Maybe he just didn't understand me. He probably learned just enough to ask for help if he got lost. I guess I will try speaking to him in English._ "Where do you want to—"

Before she could finish her question, she felt a pair of hands grab her arms and twist them behind her back. Immediately afterwards, and before she could scream for help, she saw the black man grab a white handkerchief from his left pocket and press it against her mouth and nose as he let the map fall to the ground in order to hold her head with his other hand. Within a few seconds, and before she could process what had happened, the world went black.

* * *

As Sayu Yagami fell unconscious, Skyer let go of her and pocketed the handkerchief, kneeling down to pick up the map. It was vital that they left no evidence behind them. Standing up he looked around to see if anyone was around. When they had approached the kid the park was empty, and luckily for him and Roy, it was still deserted. That is, not counting the incognizant girl, the two hoods, and the black station wagon which had been parked nearby and was now moving toward them.

"All right, coast is clear. Let's get a move on, Roy." He said before grabbing the girl's satchel bag.

"No need to tell me." His partner said as he lifted the girl over his shoulder

They walked a few steps towards the sidewalk until the car was brought to a halt in front of them. The driver's window slid down at the same time that they heard the doors unlocking. On the driver's sear, looking at them, sat Zack Irius.

"Come on, what are you waiting for, we've gotta be quick." He said in a rush. Skyer went around the car and opened the front passenger's door, quickly seating himself and tossing Sayu's satchel to the back of the car, as Roy opened the back door of the car and accommodated Sayu on the space between Skyer's seat and the back seat, easing himself into the seat next to the one in front of her (which was cluttered with ropes and duct tape) after having a final look around the neighborhood. Pleased, he smiled to himself, _nobody around, perfect._ A second after Roy closed his door, Zack drove the car out onto the road again, heading for the highway.

As the car left behind the neighborhood of the park, all three gangsters exhaled in relief. Everything had gone off without a hitch.

Skyer pounded on the dashboard as he let out a hoop. "Man, jobs like this are always exciting."

"Yeah, bro. It was even better than when we captured Takimura." Roy added, still tense from the stress of the operation.

"No shit it was better." Skyer shot sarcastically, looking back at him. "You nearly blew that one. It's your fault that we had to beat him around a little."

"Fuck you!" the brunette cursed, glaring at him through the reflection on the rear-view mirror. "It was not _my_ fault. If it was anybody's fault, it was _yours._ "

"Yo, bitch. You gonna try to pass off your fuck ups on me, now?"

"I'm not shifting the blame here, it's you who's—"

"Enough!" Zack ordered sternly and weary. "The windows may be tinted and might hide your fucking angry faces from the people around us, but if you start shouting someone might hear us." He scowled at them, or rather, he scowled and expected that they would understand that the gesture was meant for them since he had to keep his eyes on the road. "We don't want to draw any attention to ourselves at the moment. And we don't want to wake up the girl."

"Yes, Zack." Both of the reprimanded men replied tonelessly.

"Good. Too much is at stake here to allow you retards to mess things up."

Skyer turned on his seat to face him, "Who you calling retards?"

 _This is going to be a long ride._ Zack thought, sighing and soon enough the bickering resumed.

"Well, can't mean me, so it has to be you, Skyer." Roy said with a mocking smile.

"High talk comin' from the guy who's always fuckin' up—"

" _I'm_ always fuckin' up? You know what? Fuck you, Skyer."

"Fuck you, too, bitch!" Skyer yelled. Obviously, Zack's words had gone through one ear and out the other one. "Don't make me go back there," he said, leaning over towards Roy in the space between the front seat.

"Oh, really? Come at me bro," the other dared him.

"Shut the fuck up! Both of you!" the blond shouted over them, "or I'm gonna bust a cap in both your asses." Quickly, he thought of something to stop the fighting. "Roy, why don't you better hand Skyer the satchel he grabbed so he can check its contents while you tie her hands and legs." He suggested and paused as Roy practically threw the satchel at Skyer. "Oh, and put some duct tape over her mouth, we don't want her screaming if she wakes up, or biting her tongue." The suited-up hood added, "and you better make sure that you put a lot over it, so that she can't ease it off using her spit."

"Yes, Zack." Roy replied as he used some of the rope to tie Sayu's limp hands together.

"So, Skyer." Zack said glancing at the dark man through the corner of his eye, "what's in the bag?"

"Not much. Usual girl stuff and some school notebooks though, don't sweat it though, they are normal one's." He added quickly with a smirk, noticing how Zack tensed at the work 'notebook'. "There's an envelope here that from the looks of it has got some school stuff," he continued opening the envelope and examining its contents. "I thought so, it's got her grades." He rummaged some more around the bag before smiling triumphantly, "finally. Here," he said giving the phone over to Zack. It was a pink phone.

Zack spared a glance at the cellphone. "Put it back in the bag," he barked, "we'll discard it when we change cars."

"I'm done here." Roy called as he gave a last look over the work he had done. Sayu was back in the space between Skyer's seat and the back seat, feet tied together at the ankles and her arms tied behind her back, with three layers of duct tape over her mouth. _She'll have one hell of a surprise when she wakes up_ , Roy thought.

"Good." Zack said. "I'll call the Little Boss then."

He reached into the left interior pocket of his blazer and pulled out a black cellphone. "Here," he said handing Skyer the device. "look the Little Boss up on the contact list and call him, then hand the phone back to me."

Skyer scoffed and did not take the phone. "Why don't you do it? Do I look like a woman? I'm not your secretary, you know?"

"If you haven't noticed, genius," Zack growled, "I'm driving, I can't look away from the road, and since these pieces of shit don't come with keys anymore I can't just press a key and call anyone I have on my speed-dial. So stop being a little bitch and call the Little Boss."

Skyer took the phone briskly as Roy giggled behind him. "Fine." He sighed. "Fuck you, Roy." He called as he started searching the contact list on the phone. Having found the desired name he lightly touched the option to start a call. "Here, it's already calling," he said as he handed the phone back to Zack.

"Thanks." Zack replied, within a few seconds he spoke into the phone. "Little Boss." He began and waited a moment before continuing. "Yes, we picked up the package... Yes, we've secured it... Yes, it's in pristine conditions, it's not suffered any damage... Of course, Little Boss... Don't worry, Little Boss, we'll be on schedule... Yes, a few school things, make up, a cellphone... Yes, we'll throw it out at the first opportunity... Yes, where no one can notice us doing it... All right, sir." And with that he pocketed the phone again as Mello hung up. "Thank God for international calling services."

"So, what did the Little Boss say?" Roy asked, leaning towards him.

"Not much, just asked about the hostage, and told us he's already got your exit out of Japan covered."

"What do you mean by that?" Skyer asked.

"I don't know exactly, he just said that he'll make sure that your flight does not stand out."

There was a pause during which Roy studied the bound hostage again.

"You know, I think the Little Boss is gonna like the girl." He opined.

"What? You crazy?" Skyer said incredulous. "She's a hostage."

"Yeah, but she's kinda cute."

"Roy," Zack called, "the girl's off limits." He warned him.

"Fuck you!" Roy cursed him, offended. "You think I'm some sorta sicko? Some freak? She must be like what? Nineteen?"

"Well, to be fair," Skyer laughed, "you did say she was cute."

"That's 'cause I got a sister that age. Don't mean I'm interested."

"It doesn't matter, she's still off limits." Zack stated. "Even to the Little Boss himself."

"What? Off bounds to the Little Boss? Says who?" The black man asked angrily, taking offense at the implication that their dear leader had limits. "The Little Boss don't take orders from nobody. He'll do what he wants."

"Yeah, but this is different." the man in the suit said. "She's not just any girl we picked off the streets in Los Angeles. She's a hostage. The deal will be that we give the hostage back without harming her. So he can't just fuck her because he feels like it, he would have to rape her for that, I doubt she would consent to fucking her kidnapper." He explained patiently. "Besides, that would leave evidence behind."

"Yeah, guess you're right." Skyer said more calmly as he relaxed back onto his seat.

"What if the girl consents?" Roy asked.

The blond man sighed. _Is he a moron or just acting like one?_ "She would have to be drugged to do that. And drugging her to get her to accept would go under the heading of 'harming' her."

They were silent again, and once more it was Roy who broke it. "You don't think the Little Boss is..." he started hesitantly, "you know—" he didn't finish, not daring to do so, instead he just waved his hand suggestively.

Skyer turned around on his seat, incensed. "Wait a sec, you saying, the Little Boss is queer?" He demanded.

"No... no..." Roy faltered. "But since, you know, he's never taken any interest in girls, I thought maybe... you know... not that there's anything wrong with _that_!"

"Listen, Roy." Zack said. "Fun as it would be to see how the Little Boss would react to your question, I don't think that you should go around asking those kind of things. Not that there is anything wrong with _that_. Anyway, I don't think our Little Boss is a fruit, he's just paranoid. If he doesn't get it on with women it's 'cause he doesn't want to leave any evidence of anything, or have anyone get that close to him, you understand?"

"Yeah, sure." Roy answered hastily.

"Okay, then. No more stupid questions." Zack told him. "That goes for you too, Skyer." He said as the latter started laughing.

As he finished speaking, they reached their destination and he drove into a warehouse, just as Sayu Yagami began to stir. He parked the car inside the warehouse as their hostage began to shift around trying desperately to loosen the ropes on her arms and legs, the duct tape muffling her voice which was, no doubt, screaming for help.

In the center of the abandoned warehouse which Mello had bought using third parties of a third party linked to a false identity he had someone—Zack did not know who—create so that no one could trace it back to Rod Ross or anyone else from their syndicate, was parked a hearse which Zack, Roy, and Skyer had left there for the second stage of their plan.

"We've arrived", he announced dramatically. He looked back at the girl and spoke to her in flawless Japanese. " _We don't want to hurt you, so you better cooperate with us, understood, Yagami-chan?_ " By using her name and adding the intimate and informal '-chan' honorific he was establishing the grounds of their interactions. They were in charge and she had to obey, or there would be consequences. She trembled as she stared into his cold eyes, _the eyes of a murderer,_ she thought. _And he speaks perfect Japanese... Back at the park! They were just pretending not to speak Japanese, weren't they? Why did they do this to me? What are they going to do to me?_

Stepping out of the car he ordered Roy and Skyer to get out of the car, and gave Roy the additional task of taking the girl with him. He then walked over to the hearse and opened the door to the rear deck revealing an elegant black coffin on the sides of which were visible a few small round holes, there was also a grill where there would usually be a small window giving the mourners a view of the dearly departed's face. "Hey, Skyer," Zack said as he grabbed the casket's handle, "give me a hand will, you."

"On it, Zack." Skyer replied gripping the handle with his hands. Between the two of them they pulled out the casket and laid it on the ground as Roy watched over them, and around them, with Sayu over his shoulder who—at that moment—was trying her best to kick him but, tied as she was, her efforts were futile. _Let me go! Let me go!_ She tried to shout but the duct tape silenced her. She rapidly gave up her attempts to free herself. _It's pointless, I can't do anything. Oh Dad, Raito, Mum, please somebody, come help me._ She thought, doing her best to stop herself from crying. _I can't let them see me weak. That's what Dad would tell me._ Once again, her thoughts drifted toward her brother, _Raito would know what to do if he was here, he would be able to come up with a plan to escape... come on think Sayu! Think! I need to get out of here!_

With the coffin on the ground Zack opened the lid and then glanced at Roy, "put the girl down on her feet. Face her this way."

Without uttering a word Roy stood Sayu up in front of him so that she could see the coffin. Her eyes widened when she laid eyes on it and the tears she had been holding back burst out of her in a rush. _I am going to die. I am going to die. I don't want to die. Please, someone, come save me._ She was panicking for sure, by now, but then again, in her situation, wouldn't you, dear reader? I know I would. Then again, I panic when people talk to me at the mini-market.

Zack drooped towards her and smiled coldly at her. " _You misunderstand, Yagami-chan. We are not going to kill you. I already told you we won't hurt you so long as you do what we say. This is just the method we are going to use to transport you._ " He told her. _Transport me? Where? Why?_ He pointed towards the grill and the holes on the sides of the coffin. " _See those? They are meant to allow you to breathe, we don't want you to suffocate while you are in there._ "

She glared at him again, _What do you want from me?_ She tried to ask with her eyes. Seemingly it worked, as Zack spoke to her again. " _We want something from your father._ " He stated simply.

 _From Dad? What could they possibly want form Dad? We are not rich. We don't have much to offer. Unless they want information. Does this mean that Dad already knows what's happened to me? So then he will come to rescue me! I don't doubt it. But wait, who are these guys? I thought crimes like these didn't happen anymore in Japan because of Kira! How did they pull this off? But they are not Japanese, they speak English, with American accents. What could American criminals want from Dad? Oh, God, where are they taking me?_ Her panic drove her mind into chaos as a thousand thoughts swarmed her at the same time, none settling for very long, preventing her from thinking clearly.

"All right, put her in the box." Zack ordered, switching back to English. _In the box? I don't want to go in there._ She tried to plead with her eyes. _Please, don't put me in the casket,_ she begged silently, tears cascading down her cheeks.

"Sorry, girl." Roy said insincerely. He grabbed her again and placed her on the soft white linen inside the coffin. "It's nothing personal. It's just business." The man quoted. "The Little Boss told us to get you, so here you are."

 _The Little Boss, who the hell is he? What does he want from me? Why me?_ Due to her fear she suddenly forgot what the blond man had told her. Images of an ugly and tiny perverted old man began to flood her imagination, a man who would not hesitate to do the most dishonorable and awful things that men could think of doing to a defenseless girl like her, and she shivered in fear. She wanted to run away, to scream, even to die. And those were her last thoughts before the blond man closed the lid on top of her.

Zack crouched down and placed a lock on the coffin. He stood up again, and looked at Roy with a cruel smile on his face. "I think that bit about the Little Boss frightened her more than anything else."

"What? Why?" The other asked incredulous before a smile crept on his face knowingly. "My bad." He smirked. "I didn't mean to do that."

The blond turned to Skyer. "You can throw the cellphone away now, you can just throw it away to a corner of the warehouse, if you want."

"Sure thing, Zack," the black man replied and headed back to the station wagon to pick up Sayu's satchel bag. In a moment he threw away the cellphone. "What do we do with the rest of it?" He asked loudly.

"We take it," Zack replied. "We'll leave behind no evidence. And maybe one of your hairs fell inside the bag, or your sweat drops or whatever." He turned to Roy again and pointed at the coffin with his eyes. "Help me put this back in the funeral car."

"Okay." The black haired man responded. And grabbed the opposite side of the coffin, and at the count of three (what else?) they lifted the casket and pushed it back inside the hearse.

When they were done Zack closed the door or the rear deck and locked it with the keys. Skyer had joined them again by then, holding the satchel in one hand. "Okay, gents," Zack smiled, "Let's get in the car, I'll drive. You two go at the back, you'll be the passengers that will carry the coffin onto the plane and travel with it to back to LA where you will unload it."

"All right," Skyer and Roy said in unison, and all three hoods headed for the doors of the hearse. Within a few seconds Zack started the car and began driving away from the warehouse and headed towards Narita International Airport.

* * *

 _ **October 11th, 2012. 00:13 Pacific Time.**_

 _ **Mafia hideout, 5th Street. Los Angeles, California.**_

Having just finished talking to Zack, Mello turned to Pedro Kollet. Smirking he bit off a large chunk of his chocolate bar, letting the sweet piece melt on his mouth, as he thought over the next steps of his operation. First, he needed to cover his tracks, by making sure that the flight on which his hostage would be taken would not arouse the suspicion of the police.

"Kollet," he said finally, swallowing. "in the morning, I want you to call our guy at the LA Times, tell him to run the following story on the obituary section of the paper: 'esteemed employee, William Jones Junior, died earlier today of natural causes in Tokyo. His body was transported on a company plane back to Los Angeles, at the expense of the company. A private funeral will be held for him in due course.' Make sure he gets every word right."

"Of course, Mello." Kollet replied as he finished writing the details onto his cellphone's agenda. Needless to say, there were a lot of spelling mistakes, courtesy of auto-correct.

"Hey, Mello." Rashual called. "Isn't there a chance someone will trace something back to us through this William Jones, fella?"

 _Who the hell does this guy think I am? Does he really think I did not think of that already and have arranged things to prevent that very thing._ He thought angrily. He inhaled to calm himself. "No need to worry," Mello replied, munching on another piece of chocolate. "William Jones Junior never existed."

"What?" José exclaimed. "What do you mean, he never existed."

"I had someone make him up," the leather-clad boy answered simply. _I owe you one Matt,_ he thought to himself. In truth, he owed Matt a lot. Every time he needed to create a fake identity with a false history, he relied on his longtime friend to do it for him by hacking into the relevant databases in the United States. Although, considering Matt's skills with a computer, it was a relatively easy task to accomplish. _But I know he's gonna make me pay for it anyway_ , he thought resignedly. _I guess what pisses him off is that I take time away from his games._

"William Jones Junior, is a man who never existed." He continued smirking, and Rod Ross,wearing a purple silk robe, sitting next to him on same white couch, in the game room, smiled as well. "He is a ghost who works for one of the companies that we use as a front. And for his ID picture I used a composite photograph of two of our own guys who died some time ago, after getting into a fight. They killed each other and their deaths were never reported. So there's nothing to worry about."

Eddie laughed. "Mello, you sure plan way ahead of time."

The blond chuckled sarcastically at the praise. "Of course I do. If you want to do more than just survive, you've gotta do that."

Ross, still smiling, turned to look at Mello. "Okay, so after Kollet contacts Mike, what's next?"

"Not much. We'll just have to wait until Roy and Skyer are safely over the Pacific until we call Yagami and tell him that we have his daughter. At the moment they have no idea where we are which gives us a temporary advantage, but once we call them they'll know that we are based here in LA. If we call them too early and they trace the call, they might give out the order to ground all planes, including private jets, like the one we are gonna use." He explained offhandedly, his thoughts were already straying to future plans and possibilities. "By they way, once we make the call we'll have to abandon this place."

"What?" Kollet, Eddie, and Rashual cried out at the same time.

"Understood, Mello." Rod replied casually, ignoring the expressions on the faces of his underlings.

"You can sell it later on," Mello told him, "so it won't be like you just wasted your money on this place."

"But... but Boss." Eddie began. "This place is cool. Do we really have to leave it?" He sounded really childish. Then again, many of these men were just grown children.

"Dumbass." Rod snarled. "Don't you get that the moment we make the call this place won't be safe anymore, L could order the police to storm in here and take us all in, before or after the exchange."

"All right, all right." Eddie relented. "No need to yell, Boss."

"I'm not yelling."

As Ross chastised Eddie Mello's thought about what the Task Force would do the moment they got the news. More specifically, he wanted to know what this fake L was going to do. _I don't think we'll need to worry about the cops, our move is going to paralyze the NPA and L, and through that, the LAPD and the FBI. And then, what are you gonna do, fake L?_

"So, how long do you want us to wait?" Rod asked Mello, drawing him away from his thoughts. Mello knew why he was asking him that question. While he himself slept very little and was used to it, he knew most people valued their sleep and were not able to go more than twenty hours without sleep. Furthermore, he knew that Ross wanted to go back to his girlfriend.

"I guess another two or three hours, until Roy and Skyer contact us from the plane. Then I'll use Takimura's cellphone to call Yagami and tell him that we kidnapped his daughter." He informed him. "We can go to sleep after that, I guess."

"Fine, but I think that these guys should get some rest." Ross said. Mello nodded in agreement. "Eddie, Rashual, Kollet, go home and come back at eight on the dot tomorrow. Kollet, leave Takimura's phone here."

The three weary men smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Boss." They chanted.

"Kollet, one more thing." Mello called. "Make sure you bring Snyder here tomorrow on your way over."

"Sure thing, Mello." Kollet replied leaving Takimura's cellphone on the table in front of Mello. The boy chuckled as he bit into his chocolate once more.

As they left, he turned to Ross. "By the way, I am running low on chocolate bars. Have someone pick up some more, tomorrow."

Ross laughed. Intelligent and mature as the boy was he still displayed childish traits like his love for chocolate. It was almost as if he was addicted to the thing. He vaguely wondered if Mello would get withdrawal symptoms of deprived of his favorite treat for too long. "Don't worry, Mello. I'll tell Panther to buy a whole box in the morning."

"Thanks." Mello replied, grabbing another bar of chocolate from a box next to the couch.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I am really sorry for the long wait. I wanted to update sooner but I got too caught up with some new music I got, some books I wanted to read, and some great fanfics here on this site. To compensate for that, I gave all y'all a pretty long chapter. Actually, I think I overdid it, I apologize if anyone thinks this second chapter was too long._

 _While we are on that topic, I know that I might have spent too much time on the mafia guys (Zack, Roy, and Skyer), but the thing is, once I started writing them I just couldn't stop. I am a huge fan of mafia films (The Godfather, Goodfellas, Casino, The Departed, etc.) and I couldn't help myself. But I also wanted to make sure that my portrayal of the mafia crew differed from those of other good fanfics I've read on this site. It seems to me that usually they are depicted as rather cartoonishly evil and monstrous, and I wanted to make mine more humane I guess or at any rate somewhat less violent (they are still psychos though). Like the guys in the films I mentioned. (If anyone working from the FBI reads this I want to make something clear: I am 100% pro-cops)._

 _As for Sayu, I think it is part of the fanon that Sayu is actually quite clever herself, even if she's not as intelligent as Light (I've decided to go along with "Raito" within my fanfic). That makes sense to me, I think it's too improbable that both Light and his father are intelligent but Sayu is not. I still made her bad at Maths, like in canon, but just because someone isn't good at Maths doesn't mean they are not clever._

 _Also, I've decided to make the narrator a character himself, though I still don't know if the narrator is actually going to turn out to be one of the characters (OC OF CC) within the story telling the tale in third person (like Caesar)._

 _The only thing I'm not satisfied with is Mello's part, which is a bit too short. But this chapter is already 20 pages long as it is. However, it was somewhat necessitated by the plot. I am aware that I've deviated from canon by saying that Matt helped Mello with his mafia jig, but screw it, this is a fanfic, who cares?_

 _Finally, I want to thank the guys who faved my story and everyone else who has taken the time to read it. And remember: reviews are always welcome! I want to know what you think._

 _P.S. I promise I will update more quickly next time._

 _P.P.S. The political and cultural views held by the narrator are not shared by the author of this story. I, in fact, think Germans are lovely people, certain historical events notwithstanding._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, anyone who thinks I do must be smoking something fishy. On another note none of the philosophical, political, cultural, religious or societal opinions found in this chapter are the views of the author._

 _Warning: there may be some profanity again in this chapter. What did you expect from Mafia guys?_ _  
_

 _This story is based on real events which have been distorted by artistic license in the interest of the truth._

* * *

 **Chapter 3:**

 _ **October 11th, 2012. Time: Unspecified (Tokyo Time).  
Location: Changing.  
**_

 _This can't be happening. It can't be happening. There is no way this has actually happened to me. A dream! This must be a dream. No. Not a dream. A nightmare. A horrible and unbelievably realistic nightmare. But a nightmare nonetheless. I don't have to worry about anything. There is nothing to worry about! I don't have to be afraid of being buried alive in this coffin, or of the thugs in the car, or of what they are going to do to me, or of that Little Boss and what he is going to do with me. I am not really stuck in a coffin at the back of a funeral coach in Tokyo. At least I think I'm in a car. Within the nightmare, of course._ _  
_

 _No. There's no way that is real. I mean, what are the chances of it being real. Crime has always been pretty low in Japan, and since Kira's appearance it has become virtually nonexistent. Which is why Kira mostly targets the criminals of other countries nowadays. And what are the chances that American criminals decided to come to Tokyo to kidnap the daughter of the Deputy Director of the NPA. Very low, I should say! It's likely very close to being absolute zero._

 _So, yes. I shouldn't worry about anything. I'm probably asleep at home and have not woken up yet. Maybe this entire day has been one very long dream. Or perhaps, perhaps, I have been hit by a car and am on the way to the hospital. That would explain why most of today was real, but not this "kidnapping". Because if this is not a nightmare, then it would mean that I really am taken by some criminals to god knows where. And that can't be true._

 _I would rather be on my way to the hospital. It would be better than being tied up and gagged inside a coffin_ _a coffin! Being taken to some sleazy, cruel, perverted, crime boss somewhere in Tokyo where they would do terrible things to me until they return me to my father in exchange for whatever it is that they want from him. That's what they said, right? That they were taking me hostage because they wanted something from my father. But what if they were lying? What if they just said that to keep me calm, what if what they really want to do is..._

 _But why am I thinking about this? It's all a bunch of meaningless "what ifs", they don't concern me because this is not happening. It is just a nightmare. But if it is a nightmare, then how can I think so clearly about it? No, that doesn't matter either, dreams are weird, anything can happen in a dream. There isn't any logic in dreams. In a moment I am going to sprout wings and fly out of this box they shut me in, and I going to go back home, to my bed, and afterwards I will wake up. Yes, that's what I'll do, any minute now._

So the poor panicked Sayu Yagami thought to herself as she lay tied up and gagged inside a coffin at the back of a hearse, being taken to an unknown destination. Unknown to her, that is, I know perfectly well where they were taking her, as do you, dear reader, since you have been made privy to the chat of the ruffians who kidnapped the poor girl that I have to write about.

It should go without saying, but it needs to be said nonetheless—because the guy holding the gun to my head as I type this out says so—that Sayu Yagami was in a state of denial. She kept repeating to herself, like a mantra, the idea that everything that had happened to her that afternoon was a nightmare. Like all mantras, it had the effect of comforting her a bit, even if it failed to calm her.

For the most part, she managed to make herself believe in her own comforting words, and it helped that she could not move and that she could not see anything around her, though a small voice at the back of her mind kept insisting that what had occurred was very much real, and it used the occasional bumping brought about by the shuffling of the casket as the funeral coach moved on the highway, to underline its argument. Nevertheless, Sayu did not heed to the soft voice of reason, preferring her delusion.

Perhaps, You might wonder how any rational and intelligent person would fall for such a cheap trick, let alone when it was their own cheap trick. But then again none of you have ever been subjected to sensory deprivation and physical restraint simultaneously. And before any of you even think anything, let me be clear: your experiences engaging in perverted sexual activities that shall here go without name—as is only appropriate in polite society—do _not_ count. At all. There is only a superficial similarity. Everything else is different.

So for Sayu, who was terrified by her confinement, afraid of her captors, and mortified by thoughts of what awaited her—or, more accurately, her interpretation of what she had been told by Roy would await her—once she was delivered unto Little Boss, it was perfectly understandable to be in denial over her fate.

And so as the hearse moved down the highway on its way to Narita International Airport, carrying the three ruffians who dared to rapt such a sweet and innocent girl, along with their deceptively solemn and legal load in the back, Sayu fell into a dreamless sleep or, to her own confused mind, continued to sleep.

Eventually, the car stopped moving and within a few minutes Sayu was woken up by one of the three hoods as he roughly pulled off the tape covering her mouth. Coming out of her sleep and the darkness of the coffin to which she had been confined, to her new brightly lit surroundings, and settling her gaze upon Zack, her first words brought laughter to the men standing above her.

" _It wasn't a Nightmare?!_ " She squealed.

" _No. This is real. And you better accept that, Sayu Yagami. You'll be better off if you do._ " The blond man told her coldly.

She looked around and saw that she was now in what seemed to be a narrow room with pearly white curving walls with an arched ceiling. Suddenly, Roy swooped down on her and she squealed again calling for help, as the man grabbed her around the waist and lifted her over his shoulder. She could now see more clearly where she was.

It was not a room, it looked more like a corridor, with oval windows on the walls, and a number of seats, a table, and a TV screen along the wall. At the end of the corridor which was visible to her was a door. There were two other men apart from her kidnappers now, dressed in pilot uniforms. One of them looked like he was about fifty, the other seemed to be younger by about a decade.

As Roy dropped her on a seat she realized where she was. It was a private jet. _Where did these guys get the money for such a thing? And where are they taking me? I hope they won't take me out of Japan._

" _Stop screaming, Yagami-chan_." Zack ordered, interrupting her thoughts. " _You are going to be here for a long while with Roy and Skyer so I would advise you not to annoy them with your screams. Besides, don't think anyone will come rescue you, there's only us around to hear you._ " _  
_

She trembled in her seat and gulped. _It wasn't a nightmare, then it was real. And no one will come rescue me. Dad's probably not even noticed that I've disappeared. And why would he? The only thing he does nowadays is lock himself away at work, with Light. Why would he care about me when he has Raito? The favorite child. I doubt even Mom will care, even if she realizes that something's wrong. They don't care about me. They only care about Raito._ She thought, huffing. _As_ _for him, he might even enjoy my disappearance, he probably thinks of me as an annoyance, which is why he never even shows up at home anymore._ _They hate me. Well, I hate them too, if they will leave me here with these monsters. I will find a way to get away from them myself._ She finished as she began to glare at the hoods with her tears drying around her eyes.

Zack chuckled. " _You can glare at us all you want, Yagami-chan, but I am sorry to tell you that you only amuse us._ "

"Don't call me Yagami-chan." She replied, defiantly, in English. Zack took a step back in surprise. He had not expected her to know how to speak English and Sayu spoke with an almost perfect American accent. The general one, of course, the kind that you hear in fifth-rate newsbroadcasters—like CNN—or in an international school where (for God knows what reason) everyone speaks with that accent.

"Oh-ho-ho," Skyer laughed. "So, the little girl can speak English, huh? Well, that makes things easier. I won't have to speak my rusty Japanese."

 _So he really doesn't speak Japanese well._ "Don't call me 'little girl' either, my name is Sayu Yagami."

Zack recovered shortly, though. "Look, Yagami-chan," he was not going to give in, "you are in no condition to dictate terms here. We will call you by whatever name we like, and you are going to accept that, all right?"

"No, I won't. I want to be addressed by my name." She insisted.

Zack boringly gave a glance to Roy and nodded in her direction. Roy nodded and took his gun out from his pocket and point it at her head, very close to her, indeed, _too close_. Sayu had never seen a gun so closely before, even though her father was the chief inspector of the NPA because she had always been afraid of them and Soichiro Yagami believed firmly that no civilians should carry guns—in accordance with Japanese laws—and kept his pistol away from his children. So now, with a big black pistol—or at least seemed big to Sayu—only half an inch from her forehead, Sayu froze.

"Look," Roy barked. "You are gonna simmer down, and shut the fuck up. Or I'll shoot you."

Sayu surprised herself when she stuttered a reply, which somewhat undermined her attempt at a glare. "Y-You can't... you can't. I am your hostage... you can't kill me." How pathetic. She was using her status as a hostage to beg for her life.

"Oh, we won't kill you." Zack retorted with a dark smirk and in a second Roy lowered his gun and pointed it at her right kneecap instead. "We'll blast your knees away, instead."

She gulped. "So..." Zack continued softly, "are you going to be nice and quiet, or not?"

Sayu nodded defeated, but kept her glare. "Good." Zack turned to the other men in the plane. "Okay, boys. That'll be it for me." And with that he walked towards the gate.

"You are not coming with us to LA?" The captain asked. _LA? That's where they are taking me? I don't want to go to LA. I want to stay in Japan. It'll be impossible for me to run away if I leave Japan._

"That's right. Roy and Skyer will fly back, but the Little Boss asked me to stay. I've got another mission here in Japan." He glanced back at Sayu. "Roy, Skyer. Make sure the girl doesn't try to do anything." 'anything' that meant, kill herself. "And for god's sake, put her seat belt on, Roy." _  
_

"Sure thing, Zack." The brunette replied. "See you later."

"See you back in LA," Skyer called.

"Will do." Zack said.

"Good luck," added the pilots.

"Thanks," Zack's voice drifted towards them from outside.

Once outside the plane, inside the private hangar that Mello had gotten for the operation, bought months in advance of course, Zack got back into the hearse and drove out of the hangar, back to the warehouse.

Inside the plane, Roy grinned at Sayu as he leaned down to put her seat belt on. "This is gonna be a long flight. You might want to take a nap."

"Roy, stop teasing the girl." The pilot said. "Come on," he nudged the co-pilot, "let's get to the cabin we've got to get this thing on the air in a few minutes."

"Are you sure we are ready to fly?" Skyer questioned.

"Absolutely." The pilot replied. "We had the mechanic go through the plane twice today. There were no problems."

"Okay, then get cracking."

* * *

Sayu woke up two hours after take off to the sound of gun shots and laughter. For a second she was scared as she scanned her surroundings with her eyes. She turned her face towards the screen which faded into black as it began to roll some credits—she had missed the scene, she thought—as some old surf rock tune blared out of the sound system. The two hoods in charge of her had not bother to use headphones to let her sleep. While she knew that they meant to keep her alive it was likewise evident to her that it didn't matter to them in which state she was as long as she remained alive so what would they care if she suffered from sleep deprivation?

"Oh man," Skyer sighed as he tried to stop his laughter. "That scene gets me every time."

"Yeah, it's fucking hilarious." Roy agreed.

"Hey guys, can you try to keep it down back there." The gruffy voice of the pilot called to them.

"Yeah, no problemo." Skyer answered. He glanced at his watch and sobered up. "We need to do a job anyway." He paused the film and turned to Sayu. "Oh good, she's awake."

"What are you going to do now?" Sayu asked. The glare was gone. She had realized it was not going to work.

"Okay, first of all, you are not here to ask questions." Roy told her.

"And second of all?"

"Cheeky. The Little Boss won't like that." The hood replied with a sinister grin.

She tried and failed miserably to not gulp in front of them. But it was too late anyway. Roy had already realized that she was scared of them and terrified by the mere mention of Little Boss. It made him want to chuckle. Whatever his merits and attributes Mello was not a guy that petrified people at first sight. It was his tone and his gaze that made people weak in the knees.

Skyer had meanwhile pulled out his phone and dialed Mello's number. He put the phone to his ear and in a moment he spoke up. "Little Boss... yes, we are over the pacific... yes, it's been two hours since take off... yes, she's perfectly fine... all right, Little Boss." He moved his phone away from his ear and tapped the screen before placing it in front of Sayu.

" _Hello, Yagami Sayu-chan,_ " a youthful baritone voice spoke. _He speaks Japanese as well? Who are these people? Who is this guy?_

"Who are you?" She asked instinctively. _As if he would tell me his real name_.

" _For now you can call me Little Boss._ " _I knew it. But why Little Boss? Why do they call him that? Is he really short or something?_

" _What do you want from me?_ "

" _Haven't my men told you already?_ "

" _They said you wanted something from my father, but why did you take me?_ "

" _Come on, Yagami-chan, you should know better than that. You are one of the best students on your literature course at To-Oh University_."

 _How the hell does he know what I study._ " _I know I'm a bargaining chip. What I meant is why me?_ "

" _Why not? Anyway, I'm not here to answer your questions, I want you to answer a few of mine._ "

" _What could you possibly want to ask me? You seem to know everything about me already._ "

The voice chuckled. " _Maybe, but there are somethings that I don't know. First, how are you feeling?_ "

" _How do you think? You kidnap me and take me away from my country and now you want to know how I feel._ " Somehow, even though she knew she was speaking to a dangerous man she had recovered some of her valor. Maybe the fact that she was only speaking to a phone helped. _Maybe I should actually be more careful with my replied._ She waved the thought aside. _No, this bastard had me captured, I'm not putting up with his crap._ _  
_

" _That's not what I meant. I was talking about your health._ " _  
_

" _Oh, in that case I'm fine I guess. Though your goons haven't allowed me to sleep peacefully._ " _  
_

"Hey! I understood that! We ain't no goons, missy." Roy growled.

"Roy! be quiet." The voice commanded.

"Yes, Little Boss."

" _And why haven't you been able to sleep well, Yagami-chan?_ " _Wow. This guy is really polite, for a kidnapper. But I'm not buying his act. Most likely he's acting nicely so I will cooperate more willingly._

" _Because they were watching a violent film really loudly. The sounds of bullets woke me up._ " _  
_

" _I understand. But apart from that, have they hurt you at all?_ " She noticed that Skyer stiffened slightly at the sound of the word 'hurt'.

" _No, I'm fine. But what do you care? One of your guys threatened to cripple me?_ "

" _Is that so?_ " _  
_

" _Yeah, so don't try to act all nice as if you were looking out for me because I know that actually, you couldn't care less about my wellbeing. As long as I am alive you don't care what happens to me._ "

" _You might be right about that, Yagami-chan._ " He sounded calm, as if her accusation had not bothered him in the least. "Skyer." he called. "Put me off speaker-phone."

"Yes, Little Boss." The black man responded as he tapped the phone again and placed it next to his ear again. "Yes, Little Boss... Zack ordered Roy to do it... He thought it was necessary... She was acting up... You, Little Boss... No, Little Boss... Yes, Little Boss... Of course, Little Boss... All right, Little Boss." And with that the man hung up.

"What did the Little Boss say?" Roy questioned the other hood.

"Not much." the dyed blond sighed putting his hands to his face. "He did tell us to make sure the girl gets some sleep, so we are going to have to use the fucking headphones for the rest of the fucking movie. He also wants us to make sure she eats something before we get there. And he says that we shouldn't threaten her with getting shot anymore to avoid trauma."

"Bitch, you ratted on us, didn't you?" Roy snarled at Sayu who tried to back away from him as much as she could tied up and strapped to her seat.

Skyer placed a hand on Roy's shoulder. "What did I just tell you? We are not supposed to scare the girl."

"I don't get why he's so concerned with the girl." The white man shrugged. "I mean she's just a hostage."

"No, she's not 'just' a hostage. She's a valuable hostage and the Little Boss wants to make sure that she doesn't die like the last one."

Sayu felt fear rising again from the pits of her stomach. _The previous hostage died? What did they do to him? And why?_

Skyer turned to her and glared menacingly and, unlike her own pathetic attempts, his glare caused shivers to run up and down Sayu's spine. "You better try to fall asleep, little girl." He then grabbed a roll of duct tape out of a pocket in his jacket, "and for good measure, I'll make sure you don't annoy us with your bitching." And with that she had another three strips of tape placed over her mouth. "It's also for your own good, little girl." He finished smugly and then turned to the TV again, taking a headset out of a pocket in his armrest, Roy following suit. Once they were plugged in, they continued watching the film, this time she couldn't hear anything, but she could still see the credits. She turned her face away from them to gaze out of the window and try to fall asleep again.

* * *

 ** _October 11th, 2012. 04:12 (Pacific Time)._**

 ** _One of the Mafia's Hideouts in LA._  
**

Mello hung up the phone, smirking to himself. _That Sayu Yagami seems to be quite a spirited girl. Hopefully, that means that she won't be affected too much by her kidnapping, so I guess we can relax a little. I'll still keep an eye on her when she stays in my room. She might even be interesting company while she's here._ He leaned forward and picked up Takimura's phone.

"I take it that it's safe to call the NPA, now?" The bald man sitting next to him asked. Mello nodded as he began to go through the contact list. "So, how were things on the plane? It sounded like Roy and Skyer were overstepping their limits."

"Correct. That's why I had to remind them about our boundaries." He debated with himself whether or not to tell Rod Ross the impression he had received from the girl, and decided to trust him. He might not be brilliant, but Ross was a reliable and cautious mafia guy, unlike some of his hoods and made men. "The girl seems to have some spunk. I think we can relax a little, but given how these guys are being careless as things stand I don't think we should tell them that."

"I understand." Ross replied with a nod. "It will stay between us. I know what you're thinking, some of these guys aren't professional enough to handle this job properly if we told them the truth." That was the problem with the mafia, sometimes they were plagued with an inordinate number of noobs, psychopaths, or—what was worse—psycho noobs.

"Indeed." He dialed Soichiro Yagami's number as soon as Ross finished speaking. _All that's left now is for us to call the NPA, take credit for Takimura's death and tell them that we have Yagami Sayu is our new hostage and tell them not to set the cops on our tail._ Within a few moments he heard his voice.

" _Hello. Who is this_ " The deep and old voice asked him.

"Is this Yagami Soichiro Yagami, former Chief Inspector of the NPA and current Deputy Director of the same?" He was not going to be friendly and speak in Japanese to him.

"Yes. Who are you?" The man repeated more forcefully now. _His English is really good_. The blond noted to himself.

"I'm calling about the deal." Mello spoke calmly into the phone. "It's been canceled." He said tonelessly, pausing for a moment—for effect of course, he was a dramatic individual, after all. (No, I won't shut up, no matter how many times you point that gun at me). "Takimura is dead." He informed him and paused again.

"You bastards. What did you do to him?"

"I guess he just couldn't handle our questioning." He chuckled sinisterly into the phone, and before he could be insulted again by the man on the other line he continued. "Anyway, the deal has been canceled only in relation to Takimura. The new deal is this: the notebook for Sayu Yagami."

He heard the man gasp and for a second felt sorry for the man on the other side of the line. He shook the feeling out of himself. _Catching Kira is far more important than that, if necessary, I'll make amends later, in this life or the next. Most likely, it will be in the afterlife._

"Seeing how you are the Deputy Director of the NPA it would be stupid to ask you not to call the cops, but you better handle this by yourself." He ordered the older man. "If I see any big movements coming from the police over the next few days I will kill Sayu Yagami." Mello continued ruthlessly. _"_ That's right, we will kill your daughter. Just like we killed Takimura. So you better comply with our terms if you want to see her again. We promise not to harm her in any way, shape, or form—as long as you bring the notebook." And with that he hung up.

As he leaned back in his chair, Ross smirked at him. "You are getting really good at the tough talk. Who knows, maybe I'll even officially make you my successor one of these days, in case I die."

Mello spared a glance at the man sitting next to him. _As if I would want to be your successor. There's only one person I want to succeed, and that's not you._ "Great." He lied as he bit a chunk off one of his last chocolate bars.

 _As soon as Sayu Yagami arrives I'll call Mr. Yagami again and tell him the time and place where we will make the deal. He will know our location by then and will make some preparations to try to get his daughter back without having to exchange her for the notebook, but I will prepare a countermeasure for that. I have to make sure I keep the upper hand in this._ He smirked again. _Maybe I should start planning what I'll do once I have t_ _he notebook in my possession._

Ross raised an eyebrow quizzically at him. "What are you smirking about now, Mello?" _  
_

"About how everything is going just according to our plans." He replied with a grin.

"Yeah." the other chuckled. "It seems these guys from the NPA just can't keep up with you, Mello."

"Well, thank you, Ross. But there's pretty much no one who can hold a candle to me. I am the best... I will be the best." And with that he took a final bite of his chocolate bar, throwing away the wrapper.

* * *

 ** _October 11th, 2012. 20:20 (Tokyo Time)._**

 ** _Kira Task Force Headquarters, Tokyo.  
_**

Soichiro Yagami's world had crumbled to dust. He still did not what to think, what to say, let alone what to do. He was clutching his phone limply with his right hand. He had just called Sachiko and his wife had informed him that Sayu was late coming home. She was never late. Not unless she had stopped by a coffee shop or a friend's house before going home. But when she did that, she always called or sent a message to warn her parents. She had not sent one.

And Raito had been unable to come into contact with her when he called her cellphone. _When was the last time Sayu had not picked up Raito's phone?_ He thought to himself. _It had been during the day, and she had been in class, and that was a long time ago, in fact, I'm pretty sure it was the first time that had happened._ It had almost sent them into a panic before they remembered that she was in school and would probably not be able to pick up her phone for a while. And when I say that it had "almost sent them into a panic" I mean that they were only one step away from raising a full alert to all officers on patrol duty. ** _  
_**

That confirmed it. His little princess, the apple of his eye, the great treasure of his life was gone. And who knew when he would see her again. He only had the word of that—shockingly youthful sounding—criminal to go with, and so far, they had not proved themselves reliable on the front of keeping their hostages alive, never mind unharmed.

He felt like a failure now more than ever. He had failed to keep Ukita alive, L had died in his watch, Takimura had been killed by some goons, and now to his failures as a detective was added a failure as a parent. His daughter had been kidnapped by some evil men who wanted the notebook to use it for even more nefarious ends than Kira's.

He wanted to quit. He wanted to go home and never leave again out of shame. He was even considering killing himself as a form of redemption in the good old Japanese style. That might restore some of his honor, but it would never make up for his failing as a parent. What father allows a child to be taken away from him?

Fortunately, for the Chief—as Matsuda once said, he would always be the Chief, in life and in death, until the end of time, amen—Raito spoke up, breaking the silence in the room.

"I think it was Kira who killed Takimura, not the kidnappers." He announced.

Soichiro, and the other members of the Task Force stared incredulously at him.

"What?" Aizawa asked.

"Let's think about it. Kira might be evil, but he doesn't want criminals to take possession of the notebook, because they are the people he wants to eliminate—he doesn't want to compete with them. He must have found out what happened to Takimura, since we know he has ways of obtaining information from within the police, and he must have guessed what were the terms for his exchange. After all, the only ones who knew that the Director didn't know anything about the activities of the Task Force are us. So it makes sense that he would have killed the Director. Besides, why would the kidnappers kill off their own hostage? it simply doesn't add up."

Soichiro mulled over Raito's words for a few seconds. Everything he said made sense and seemed to illuminate the actions of the kidnappers as well. As always, he was impressed by Raito's deductive abilities. They were just like Ryuzaki's, once he explained something everything began to seem clear. He was also proud of how his son had recovered quickly from the blow that had been delivered to them earlier.

He turned towards his son. "What do you think we should do now?"

"I think we should keep Takimura's death to ourselves until we have gotten Sayu back, and we shouldn't tell the rest of the NPA about it, otherwise..."

"Otherwise, Kira will not hesitate to kill the hostage." Ide finished.

"Exactly." Raito confirmed.

"And then we will lose the Chief's daughter as well as Takimura." Matsuda added.

They all nodded in agreement and went back to work, trying to identify the location from where the call originated and to hatch a plan to rescue Sayu without having to hand over the notebook.

In a few minutes Aizawa informed them that he had managed to trace the call back to LA. That meant that they could narrow down their search for potential kidnappers to known and suspected Californian criminals. With the help of the FBI and the departments of police of the districts of that state they would be able to draw up a list of suspects in a short time.

Soichiro Yagami threw himself energetically into his work both as a way to distract himself from the depressing thoughts he had been having for the past months and which had only worsened with this call from LA and as a way to aid them in their preparations to recover Sayu.

 _Don't worry Sayu. I won't fail you like I failed Takimura._

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Yes. Suspense. Again. Cliché? Yes. Can it be helped? No. You'll just have to wait for the next chapter. Coming soon._

 _First things first: I want to thank everyone who has bothered to read the first chapter, and everyone who has read both chapters. It really cheers me up to know that people are actually bothering to read my attempts at writing a hopefully at least half-decent fanfic.  
_

 _Special thanks go to the people who faved and followed my story, as well as the guys (gals?) who reviewed my story. To NearL: thank you so much, when I read your simple but apparently enthusiastic review I went off to begin this chapter straightaway. And to Demonic Mello: I am glad I was able to make you fangirl (whatever that means!) and that you enjoyed it.  
_

 _I know I wasn't very quick to upload a new chapter this time around_ — _again, I know_ — _but the thing is I tried to login to my fanfiction account two days ago but for some reason I wasn't able to do so, this chapter was actually finished a few days ago, in the end I had to download another browser to try to login and it finally worked. Anyway, I hope you like it, this chapter featured more Mello than the last one._ _  
_

 _This chapter was shorter than the previous ones, but it's just about two thirds of the last chapter and it is almost as long as the first one. Since I didn't know if you guys liked the long chapters thing I thought about leaving this one a bit shorter, and it kind of works in the end. Otherwise, it would have been too crammed if I had included the first few scenes of the next chapter in here._ _  
_

 _By the way, the next chapter is already mostly written up and you guys should expect another update on Monday or Tuesday. Next chapter will feature: Sayu's arrival in LA, her first face-to-face encounter with Mello, and Near's first appearance. For more, you'll have to wait until the next chapter of My Soul Invincible.  
_

 _Cheers,  
_

 _NDC_ _  
_

 _P.S. None of this is beta'd(?) so any grammatic or spelling mistakes, or errors of expression, any of you find are solely my fault._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note L wouldn_ _'_ _t have died. Perhaps._

 _Warning: Do you really need me to spell it out?_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 _ **October 12th, 2012. 00:23 (Tokyo Time).**_

 _ **Kira Task Force Headquarters, Downtown Tokyo.**_

"Ah, this is just impossible," Matsuda's whining voice cut through the silence of the room as he leaned back against the couch he was sitting on, looking away from the computer screen. Well, it was not really silent because of the beeping of the monitors, the whirring sound of the computers, and the sound of keys being tapped. But you get what I mean.

"Matsuda, please." Soichiro reprimanded him. "This is no time to give up."

"I'm sorry Chief, but there are just way too many people who could be suspects. There are at least two thousand suspects in California."

"He's right." Ide said more soberly. "Even if we limit our search to LA, there are still around two hundred potential suspects. This search is a nightmare. We need more information."

"Did you limit your search to known or suspected mafia associates?" Raito asked, trying-and failing slightly-to hide the condescension in his tone.

"We did," Ide replied, gritting through his teeth. _Who does this guy think he is to speak in that tone to us? Just because he_ _'_ _s so brilliant it doesn_ _'_ _t give him the right to be so arrogant._

"Yeah, he's right," Matsuda added, completely missing the note in Raito's tone. "If we expand our search to businessmen who could be after the notebook to use it in the same way that the former Yotsuba executives did, we would have thousands of suspects in LA alone."

Raito stifled a groan. _Ide is right. It is almost impossible to find the group we are looking for at the moment. I need a clue, just one clue to tell me who was the bastard behind this operation. And once I know that, I_ _'_ _ll kill him for daring to defy Kira._

"Aizawa," Soichiro spoke up, interrupting Raito's thoughts, "did you find any clues from the airport records?"

Aizawa closed his eyes and sighed. "No." He looked up at Soichiro and Raito. "I checked the passenger list of every flight bound for LA. I didn't find anyone who was suspected of being involved with the mafia. I contacted the guards at the airport and no one reported any suspicious activity today."

"What about Sayu?" Soichiro asked with a hint of hope in his voice. "Did anyone report seeing her?"

Aizawa shook his head. "No luck there either. No one at the airport seems to recall seeing her. And when I checked the passenger lists I didn't find anyone who looked remotely like her."

"What if they used a cargo ship, instead of a plane?" Matsuda suggested.

"Unlikely." Soichiro said dryly. "I checked with the harbor authorities and there was no ship sailing to America today, though a few were coming in."

Raito turned back to Aizawa. "What about private flights?" Raito questioned him. "Did you find any leads there?"

"Maybe, but I can't be sure." the man with the afro replied.

Soichiro frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Aizawa sighed again. "There were several private flights today, a few were heading to LA or California. Most of them didn't have any passenger lists, a few did, but again I couldn't find anything suspicious."

Matsuda stared at Aizawa questioningly. "Then why did you say that maybe you had found a lead?"

Aizawa glared at him. "I was getting to that. While, again, no suspicious activity was reported by any of the guards at the airport, there was one thing that might be relevant. A hearse entered the airport today and headed for the hangar of an American company which does business here in Japan. According to the guard, the driver said that an employee of the company had died and his body was being transported for burial in LA. Unfortunately the guard could not remember the name of the employee in question. And I could not find any information about the death of an employee of that company on the internet."

"That's it! They must be the people behind this!" Matsuda exclaimed.

Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe not. It is not all that rare for people who work in the exterior to have their bodies repatriated when they die. And they might have delayed the announcement of his death until his body arrived in America. Anyway, I contacted the company to get information about this, but they were already done for the day. So I tried to contact the manager but he didn't pick up his phone."

"He must have been sleeping." Ide remarked. "After all, it is quite late."

"Did you try contacting their companies headquarters in LA?" Soichiro suggested. This was getting worse with every word the rest of the members of the Task Force spoke. It almost seemed as if his daughter and her captors had vanished.

"No." Aizawa replied calmly. "But I was going to do that."

"Please hurry," Soichiro ordered him. "As soon as their working hours start, call him straightaway."

"Will do, Chief." The stoic man said.

Raito smiled confidently at the other members of the Task Force. "Either way, let's investigate this company in the meantime, even if it turns out to be a waste of time, but at the moment we have to consider every possibility no matter how unlikely." He finished forcefully.

"Wow, it seems like this has got you riled up," Ryuk laughed behind him. Raito tensed immediately, sometimes he wished he could get rid of the Shinigami, but he knew that was simply not possible. "Things are sure getting fun again." The god of death laughed again. _Ryuk_ _…_ Light thought bitterly.

"Hey Raito," Aizawa called him, distracting him from his irritation towards Ryuk. "Do you think there is a chance that, whoever the person behind this turns out to be, Yagami-chan is still in Japan?"

He thought for a moment. "That could be possible." He answered finally. "It could be the case that whoever called us from LA is just coordinating everything that's occurring here." He paused for a second while the other members of the Task Force stared at him expectantly. _But whoever this guy is, he would probably have gotten her out of the country before calling us, I shouldn_ _'_ _t underestimate him again, he was clever enough_ — _or opportunistic enough_ — _to use Takimura_ _'_ _s death to his advantage, and the fact that he was able to capture Sayu without anyone noticing means that he_ _'_ _s very well prepared_.

"However I don't believe that is what's going on. It seems too unlikely that whoever kidnapped Takimura then sent his phone over to LA, moreover I don't know of any delivery service which is able to send a package from Tokyo all the way over to LA in such a short time period. It should take at least two days. And I doubt that he would have called us if he thought there was a chance we would be able to get Sayu back" He explained offhandedly. "So while it is certainly tempting to imagine that perhaps Sayu is still in Japan, the probability of that being true is very low."

He glanced around at the group of detectives. They were all looking dejectedly at the floor. Even his father. They were obviously depressed, but they would be of no use to him if they could not think properly. He needed them if he was planning to catch these clearly evil men who wanted to use the notebook for their own game. Unlike himself, of course, he used it for purely altruistic motives. Or so he deluded himself into thinking.

"Come on guys, we shouldn't accept defeat at this time. We need to work as hard as we possibly can to find a trail that will lead us to the criminals who kidnapped her, and once we find them we will arrest them." He said rallying the team.

"Raito is right, guys." Matsuda said seriously, not intending the pun because—as you know—he was speaking in Japanese and not English. "We can't give up. Sayu needs us right now."

Soichiro smiled to himself, as did the rest of the Task Force. Matsuda might not be the brightest of them all, but he was enthusiastic and determined when it was needed. He glanced at his watch. It read one o'clock in the morning. He turned towards Aizawa. "It is already nine in LA, the company must be operating by now. Call them to confirm about their employee's death. So far, it is our only link."

"On it." Aizawa replied with a smile. Raito's speech had worked, now he was feeling optimistic about the task ahead of them. He picked up the phone and called the company, after a few moments he was connected to the reception desk who transferred him to the Exterior Operations Department of the company.

As soon as the man offered a greeting he introduced himself. Using the false identity created for him by L of course, they had not forgotten everything that L had told them, even if they had forgotten the most important detail L mentioned. The other members of the Task Force

"This is Shuichi Aihara," he spoke into the phone in slightly accented English. "I am a detective from the Japanese National Police Agency."

"Is that so?" The gruff voice replied. "And what would the NPA want with my company?"

"He sounds kind of rude," Matsuda remarked to the Task Force.

"Matsuda! Be quiet!" Soichiro scolded him, but secretly agreed with the young detective.

"We want to ask a few questions about the recent flight of your Gulfstream Jet from Tokyo to LA." He told the executive.

"What do you want to know?" The gruff voice asked.

"We were informed that one of your employees died and he was being carried back to LA for burial. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Good. Could you confirm the identity of your employee to us, please?"

"Of course, his name was William Jones. Junior, I think. Great employee."

"Okay. Would you be able to confirm his death? We couldn't find anything on the obituaries." He pressed. Raito smirked. _Aizawa seems to do really well at the good cop routine. I wonder who used to be the bad cop?_

Without hesitating a single second the executive answered his question. "That's because we delayed reports of his death until today. If I am not mistaken, his obituary will appear in today's _LA Times_."

"Very well, we will note that down." Aizawa paused for a second before continuing with his line of questioning. "And could you inform us of what he died?"

"I am not sure, all I know is that he died of natural causes and was dead before the the ambulance reached him, so he wasn't taken to any hospital, it could have been a heart-attack for all I know."

"I understand." Aizawa said softly, as if offering his condolences. In truth he couldn't wait to hang up and see what the other members had found out about this William Jones Junior.

"Will that be all?" The executive questioned him.

"Yes, that'll be all. Thank you for your time."

"No problem." And with that the call ended.

"I found this William Jones Junior." Ide announced. "He seems to check out. I can't find anything that would connect him to the mafia or even a minor criminal. He has had a few parking tickets issued to him for speeding and has been fined for driving while drunk, but nothing serious."

 _Damn._ Raito thought to himself as the detectives sighed in disappointment. He wanted to scream in frustration. They still had nothing.

* * *

 _ **October 11**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2012. 11:42 (Pacific Time).**_

 _ **Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), California.**_

Sayu had not managed to sleep much when they finally arrived at her destination. All in all she thought she had slept four hours on a trip that was almost ten hours long. She had fallen asleep at the beginning of the flight and after the conversation (if you could call it that) with the Little Boss.

After that, she had slept for a while until one of the hoods had woken her up for her 'lunch'—it was more like dinner in her case, but whatever—which consisted of a sandwich, some potato chips, and a soda. Not particularly healthy, but she didn't think these mafia fellows who were in no ways good would care much about their health.

Following her lunch she had stayed awake the rest of the trip our of both fear of her kidnappers, anger towards the incompetence of her parents, and curiosity about what the Little Boss would be like. He had been almost polite and nice on the phone, but she didn't know whether this was genuine or just an act.

She was also dreading meeting him in part because it would make all of this, her kidnapping and extradition to America, feel much more real and almost final, but also—and this was the most important reason—because of the possibility that he might turn out to be a cruel man. The fact that she knew that the previous hostage had died did not help her to calm her nerves. Occasionally, she would break into tears at the thought that they would kill her and she would never be able to ser her family again.

So all in all, the possibility that she would be able to go back to sleep was rather remote.

Thus she arrived in LA feeling tired and hungry—no Yagami will ever be satisfied by eating a meager sandwich and a small bag of potato chips—in addition to feeling terrified and enraged.

Her custodians—if one can call them that—unlike her had not had any trouble sleeping throughout the trip. Once they were done watching their violent film, which for some reason that Sayu could not fathom they found to be humorous—though in all fairness to the hoods, Ms. Yagami was not awake to actually watch the movie in question, to judge its comedic value—they took turns with their catnaps, one of them keeping an eye on her while the other dozed.

Occasionally, the co-pilot or the pilot would walk out of the cabin and talk to whichever hood happened to be awake. During one of these chats she found out that the previous kidnapper had been an older man—they kept referring to him as "the geezer"—and no one had traveled with him, instead they had drugged him to keep him from "causing trouble for the Little Boss".

Once in LA, Skyer woke Roy up as they prepared to leave the plane. Shaking his head Roy walked over towards Sayu and grabbed her around the waist, placing her over his shoulder again.

Before they left, she saw Skyer head over to the cabin to talk to the pilots, who had not moved from their seats. "Aren't you guys gonna come us?" He asked them.

"No." The veteran replied. "You guys go ahead. We are supposed to leave later. Orders are that we are not supposed to even see the guy you're meeting."

Skyer nodded and walked back over to Roy and Sayu, opening the door as he did so.

They descended the steps of the plane into the hangar where there was a red Ford Mustang waiting for them along with another hearse. Leaning against the hood of the red car and smoking a cigar was a middle-sized man wearing a green tank top, black cargo trousers, with dark straight neck-lenght hair and tanned skin.

"Hey there, José," Skyer called as he descended the steps with a wave of his hand. "How's it going, dude?"

"Like shit, been up since seven setting everything up." He glanced towards Sayu. "So that's the new hostage?"

"Yep," Roy confirmed. "So, what do we do now?"

"Didn't the Little Boss tell you?" José asked, looking puzzled.

"No." Skyer replied. "He only told us that you'd be waiting for us here. But he didn't say anything else."

"You know the Little Boss, José. He's one hella of a paranoid fuck." Roy remarked with a grin. "He probably didn't tell us all the details in case we got caught."

"Not paranoid." José contradicted him, puffing on his cigarette. "Just careful."

"Same difference." the black man countered. "Anyway, you gonna tell us what we are supposed to do now, or not?" He asked wearily.

"Yeah, yeah." José responded, throwing down his spent cigarette on the hangar's floor and stepping on, out of instinct rather than out of necessity. "Today is William Jones Junior's funeral." He said calmly.

Sayu felt panic rising in her chest again. _Funeral? Do they mean the hostage that they killed? Or are they going to bury me alive? Wait, that doesn't make any sense didn't they say they planned to exchange me for something Dad has? Or were they just lying in case the police caught them and are actually planning to kill me and trick my father into thinking that if he hands over whatever it is they want, I will be returned to him._

Roy's next words interrupted her train of thought. "So, who's in the coffin? The last hostage or one of our guys?" Sayu felt relieved. _So they are not going to bury me alive._

José shook his head. "Takimura. Our guy's were buried in the desert, remember? As a punishment."

"Oh yeah, now I recall." The dyed blond said. "Poor bastards. They should have known better."

"Got that right." Roy agreed with a laugh." _Buried in the desert? What did they do? And they are laughing about it? How can they do that? And wait a second… Takimura… that name sounds familiar… yeah, that's the name of Dad's boss, isn't it? Did they really kidnap the head of the NPA? How did they pull that off? No, it can't be. It must be another Takimura. It has to be. But what are the chances of that?_

"Indeed," José added, laughing as well. "Anyway, you guys are gonna take the coach there and head over to the cemetery, where you will bury the poor bastard's corpse."

"All right," Roy confirmed, "but what about the girl? And what are you going to do?" He asked narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"The girl goes in the back seat of the car," the man told him, pointing to the red car behind him. "I will take her to the Little Boss."

You didn't really think that they would use the same plan again, did you, dear reader?

"What?" Skyer exclaimed indignantly. "You telling me, that after we do all the hard work, you are gonna push us aside? The fuck is this shit?"

"Little Boss' orders." The Hispanic said calmly. "Look," he continued, eyeing the pair sternly. "The Little Boss appreciates your hard work, and he's grateful, but this is his plan and we are gonna do what he says, got it?"

The two recently arrived hoods glared at the man in front of them, who was glaring back, for a moment, the tension increasing with every second, before they relaxed. "Fine," Skyer breathed out. "We'll do what the Little Boss said. Hand over the damn keys."

"Here," José threw the set of keys over to Skyer. "You know the way to the cemetery?"

"Is that joke?" Roy said amused. "We been to place plenty of times not to know the way there."

José laughed. "True that."

"Is this shit open?" the brunette pointed towards the back door of the Mustang, moving towards it.

"Yep." José replied simply.

"Good." Roy opened the door and almost threw Sayu inside.

"Hey!" Sayu's captor turned to look at José who had a disapproving frown on his face.

"What?" He asked the man staring at him.

"The Little Boss orders were that we had to be careful."

"So?"

"So don't go throwing her around."

"I didn't throw her."

"Yes, you did, I saw you." José insisted.

Roy grit his teeth. "Look you—"

"Can we leave this for later." Syker sighed. "We've got a job to finish in case you guys have forgotten."

Roy turned to his partner, the scowl still on his face. "Fine." He glanced at José again. "Fuck this shit." And with that he headed over to hearse.

"Good," the Hispanic man said. "About time you started acting professional."

Roy didn't say anything but he frowned back at him for a second then continued walking towards the car.

"Some of the guys will be waiting for you at the cemetery." José informed them as they opened the doors of the funeral coach.

Skyer turned towards him. "Why?"

José raised an eyebrow at him. "It's his funeral." He stated as if that was a sufficient explanation, which—to Skyer—it was.

"Right," the dyed blond said as he got on the car. Meanwhile José moved towards the controls and opened the hangar's gate. "See you later," Skyer called as he drove off in the coach.

José walked back to the red car and got on. As he started the engine he turned back to the hostage that was left in his charge. "English?" He asked. Sayu nodded. "Ever been to LA?" She shook her head. He gave her a friendly smile. "Well, make yourself comfortable, cause it's gonna take us a while to get to where we're heading. The freeways are always packed. Welcome to LA."

With that he turned back around to face the front and drove off the hangar, as the pilot and the co-pilot descended from the plane.

* * *

 _ **That same day, 11:48 (Pacific Time).**_

 _ **Mafia hangout, LA.**_

Mello was growing impatient with every minute that passed, tapping his foot restlessly against the floor. In the last twenty or so minutes he had gone through more chocolate bars than in the previous three hours, and every few seconds he glanced at his digital watch to check the time. It did not help that he had barely slept that day, but it was crucial that he be awake and alert the moment his new hostage arrived. Taking a guess, I would say that in that moment he was one stupid remark away from shooting something—or someone.

Of course, Mello's unease kept all the hoods and made men around him, including the ever cool Rod Ross, on edge. They knew that most of the time, Mello was a calm person, but there were certain things that could make him explode, and when that happened no one could predict what the outcome would be. Unfortunately for them and their nerves, one of the things that put Mello on a foul mood were people deviating from his brilliantly thought-out plans which were supposed to be perfectly executed.

In the year and a half that Mello had been with them three of his plans had, in Mello's view, been ruined by incompetence. And in those three cases Ross had agreed with his assessment of the events. Not because they had not achieved their goals—they had, with Mello they always did—but because while their men were carrying out their plans, they had _misbehaved_ , for lack of a better word.

Roughly speaking there are three really important rules among Mafia men, well, not _rules_ per se because the Mafia has no rules, more like guidelines which are supposed to be followed. First, you do not kill the made man of another group, specially if you are just a hood, during peace time. Second, you do not steal from your boss. Third, and this is, perhaps, the most important rule of all, you do not kill a cop if it's not necessary—or you can't get away with it. That just causes problems for everyone.

The men in charge of the aforementioned jobs had, during the course of their duties, broken one of these rules. They were punished accordingly. Ross' men had filled a few holes out in the desert as a result. That's how things worked in their world. You make a big mistake, you get a bullet in the head. No excuses.

Now, Rod Ross and the other associates of their syndicate present in that room at the time, were certain that neither of these rules had been violated by Roy, Skyer, or José, so they were not worried about being sent to the desert to dig a hole—or worse, three holes—and having to come back to the hide out to collect the wretched remains of their comrades. In case you are wondering, as a friend of an acquaintance of a friend of an uncle of a friend of mine once said, when you take the body to desert the hole must have been dug already, otherwise you have to waste time digging one, which can take forty-five minutes at the best of times, and while the desert is, obviously, usually devoid of people, you never know who will go by in the highway, and next thing you know you will be digging a couple more holes.

However, just because the men in question had not crossed any boundaries, but they wouldn't put it past Mello to snap at them, go on a rant about their incompetence and—God forbid it—shoot anything, or anyone, for that matter, due to the delay. After all, time was always a crucial facto in Mello's plans, and he seemed unable to process the fact that traffic jams were inevitable in Sodom and Gomorrah—ahem, I mean, Los Angeles.

As the likelihood of Mello shooting his gun off at something reached seventy percent—according to Ross' calculations, anyway, which I, for one, don't think are too far off the mark—the Big Boss' phone rang. Picking it up he answered the call from the guard at the gate. "What is it?"

"It's José." The guard replied.

"Letting him through." Ross ordered. He saw Mello stare at him expectantly. "It's José, he's brought the girl."

"Finally," Mello growled, venting some of his frustration by crushing the now empty wrapping foil in his left hand. Around the room Ross' henchmen tried—with different degrees of success—to suppress their sighs of relief, it would not do to anger Mello by letting on that they were expecting him to lose his temper.

A few minutes later, the door to the room opened and José walked through it, holding Sayu Yagami under her arm like a bag. "Here she is, Mello." The blond pointed towards one of the chairs in the room, which was set in front of the TV.

As soon as she was on the chair Sayu looked around the room, and was terrified by the mere sight of most of the men in there. Not only where they generally much older than her—by at least ten years on average, she guessed—but they also looked tough and cruel, an impression that was exacerbated by the fact that some of them had scars on their faces.

However, the young man right in front of her, was different. He was young. She estimated that he was about her age, and not very tall; his features were handsome and soft, even somewhat feminine, drawing a sharp contrast between him and the rest of the mobsters in the room. His leather clothes also put him at odds with his colleagues, who were all wearing suits, but he looked like he belonged in a rock concert not in a mafia hideout. His eyes, though, were sharp and narrow, and there was no warmth to them.

She did not know what to think about him, unlike José, Roy, and Skyer who—despite their false smiles—struck her, from the look in their eyes and from the way they talked, as being cold-blooded murderers and, ergo, filled her with fear, this leather-clad boy did not make her feel the same way.

She was still afraid as she guessed from his looks that he must be the one they had referred to as the "Little Boss"—he was person in the room she could match to the voice she had spoken to in the phone—and was thus ultimately responsible for everything that had happened to her in that long day.

Nevertheless, she was somewhat relieved that now she could confirm, with her own eyes, that he was not the ghoulish perverted old man she had imagined.

"Why are you late?" The young man asked José.

"Roy and Skyer." The other replied simply. When Mello raised an eyebrow at him he elaborated. "We got into a small argument. They didn't take to their new task too well. Thought I was stealing their credit." Seeing the blond did not look very impressed he added, "there was also a hell of a jam, you know what LA is like."

Mello nodded and approached the girl in front of him. She shivered slightly as he walked towards her. He leaned down towards her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him as he studied her face.

Mello quickly took note of the bags under her eyes, the fear within them, and the tear-stains on her face. He turned to José. "What did Roy and Skyer do to her?"

"Nothing, as far as I know." The man replied, "why?"

"She seems to have slept little, and there are tear stains on her face." The blond explained.

"She might have been too scared to sleep on the plane, as for the tears, I guess she was just afraid."

Mello looked at Sayu again thoughtfully. "Yeah… that could be true."

Ross smirked. "I don't doubt it for a second. You know that Roy and Skyer don't look very friendly."

Mello nodded his assent and walked around Sayu, examining the ropes tied around her arms and bending down to examine those around her legs. He did not miss the bruises and rope burns on her eyes, and guessed that the ropes were probably tied too tightly. Without saying anything he loosened the ropes a bit.

Had it not been for the tape pressing her lips together and muffling her mouth, the mobsters would have heard and seen Sayu gasp slightly and gape at Mello as he rearranged the ropes. At first she thought that he was going to tighten the ropes, so his subsequent actions confused her.

"She seems fine." He pronounced finally, standing up. "But I'll have word with both Roy and Skyer when they come back from the funeral. They tied the ropes a bit too tightly."

"Oh, come on, Mello," Roy said playfully, "give them a break. The girl is all right, you said so yourself."

"I told them not to hurt her at all." Mello stated firmly. "They clearly didn't follow my orders to the letter."

"You know, Mello, I think you're exaggerating." Ross opined. "Yeah, maybe they didn't do exactly as you told them, but it was pretty close, it was probably the best they could do."

"Next time I expect them to do better." Mello countered. Ross snorted but decided not to say anything. It was impossible to argue with Mello about this, the guy was a perfectionist. A Wammy specialty, in case you are wondering. It is expected of the candidates that they become anal about whatever it is they specialize in. Half-measures are deemed to be unacceptable. It is only natural that everyone who attends the place is obsessive-compulsive with regards to something: gaming, music, detective work, painting, reading.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost midday, it would be four in the morning in Japan, but he was confident that the members of the Task Force would still be awake. He smirked to himself again. _Time to call the cops_. "Hand me Takimura's phone." He ordered, as he grabbed another chocolate bar out of the pocket of his jacket, unwrapping it.

Jack Snyder, a short and scrawny man with shoulder-length blond hair who wore oval-shaped glasses approached him and handed him the cell phone.

"Thanks, Snyder." He said as he dialed Soichiro's phone again, biting off a chunk of his bar as he did so. As he waited for the call he glanced at Rashual and gestured towards the TV. Nodding, the man turned it on, but used the remote to set it on mute.

The moment Yagami answered the phone he blurted out his words, not waiting for a greeting. "Your daughter has finally arrived." He was still feeling frustrated by José's lateness. It had almost ruined his plans, everything had to be done flawlessly to give the impression to the Kira Task Force, specially to the fake L, that they were dealing with real professionals. That he was, in fact, superior to this poser.

"What have you done to my daughter?" Soichiro barked on the other end of the line.

Mello ignored him. "You have a pretty good idea of where we are don't you?" He took the man's silence as a confirmation. "Good. Now, listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you, if you want to see your daughter again." Now was the time for him to dictate his terms.

"Fine." The man snapped, "what do you want us to do."

Mello smirked. "We are going to have the meeting here, in LA." he began. "You are going to take a flight from Tokyo on Friday October 13th, at one o'clock. You will come by yourself, and I'll repeat what I said last time, I don't want to see any large movements coming from the police, whether it be the NPA, the LAPD, or the FBI. And, of course, bring the notebook."

"I understand. I will do as you say." Soichiro replied reluctantly.

"Good. Once here, you will meet one of our business associates at the airport who will pick you up and take you to our meeting place where we will make the exchange. You can have your daughter back, then."

"How do I know my daughter is alive?" He asked suspiciously. "I want to speak with her, put her on the phone!" He demanded.

"I am afraid I cannot allow that, Mr. Yagami." He responded coolly. "But don't worry, I'll send you a picture as soon as the call ends."

There was a pause during which he could hear the Deputy Director breathe heavily onto his phone. "By the way, I hope you are aware that none of this can be made public, otherwise I won't be able to ensure the safety of your daughter, if you understand what I am saying?" He said, taunting the man.

"You bastard, if you do anything to her—" Soichiro yelled onto the receiver.

"Now, now, Mr. Yagami," Mello mocked the older man. "Don't speak without thinking first, you don't want to be impolite, now do you?"

He heard the growl come from the other end of the call. "I'm glad you understand your position, Mr. Yagami." He smirked. "We will see you two days from now." And with that he hung up.

He turned again towards Sayu and then glanced at Eddie and Kollet. "Eddie, carry Ms. Yagami to my room." He ordered him.

"What are you planning to do, Mello." Ross snickered. Sayu felt a chill travel down her spine as tears accumulated again around her eyes.

He glared at the bald man, "don't even think about. I just want to make sure that nothing happens to this one." He pointed to Sayu, who gulped—whether in relief or not, I am not sure, but that doesn't matter. "Kollet," he continued, "take that box of chocolate bars to my room." He indicated the relevant item with his index finger.

"Sure thing, Mello." Both men replied as they proceeded to follow his orders.

"Don't worry, little girl," Eddie said, grabbing Sayu and lifting her over his shoulder. "We ain't gonna hurt you at all." He chuckled as he walked through the door.

"That's right." Kollet agreed, following Eddie through the door, clutching a box of chocolates. "At least as long as your daddy does what we ask him to."

"Shut it, both of you." Mello grunted, snapping off another piece of chocolate.

"All right, all right, we'll keep quiet." Kollet replied rolling his eyes as Eddie chuckled again.

* * *

 _ **October 11**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2012. 16:10 (Atlantic Time).**_

 _ **Special Provision for Kira Headquarters, Upper Manhattan.**_

As he placed another match on top of what would soon become his fourth match tower, Near, an eighteen-year-old boy who looked at least five years younger, with curly white hair and gray panda eyes, who was wearing a white set of pajamas, heard Anthony Rester, otherwise known as Commander Rester—whose real name will not be mentioned by yours truly out of consideration for the safety of the character in question, and as a courtesy towards the US government—approach him.

"We have received a report stating that Kanichi Takimura, the Director of the NPA, is dead." The tall blond man informed the childish teen in front of him.

Near mulled over the information for a second. _It doesn't make sense for the kidnappers to get rid of their bargaining chip, specially if the one in charge is Mello. He wouldn't do something as stupid as that. Could it be that..._ "Do we know who did it?" He asked Rester tonelessly, as ever (I swear that little albino bastard seems to have no emotions).

"Who did it?" Rester stated confused. "The kidnappers, of course."

"It would be interesting if it turned out to be Kira who killed Takimura." Stephen Gevanni, an FBI agent with curly black hair commented. His figure was, in contrast to Rester's buff, quite slim.

"That's an interesting observation, Gevanni." Near remarked.

"You think Kira did it?" Halle Lidner, the sole female member of the SPK and CIA agent, prodded him curiously.

"Well, it doesn't make any sense for the kidnappers to kill Takimura. However, we know that Kira has access to Police Information, he might have found out about the kidnapping and the planned exchange and decided to get rid of the Director."

"To cancel the deal, you mean?" Rester asked.

"Exactly." The not-actually-albino boy said. "By the way," he went on, "have you been able to find anything about the person I told you about?" _I need to confirm this._

Rester nodded—a useless gesture considering Near had his back turned towards him—"We were able to confirm that he left the orphanage five years ago, but we haven't been able to find out more than that." He replied evenly.

"That does it." Near said, puzzling the agents around him. He grabbed the photo of Mello from the pocket of his pajama shirt, staring at it. _Mello you will never change. How could you leave a picture of you at the orphanage? But of course, you were probably too eager and anxious to leave Wammy's and therefore simply forgot about it. How typical of you to let your emotions get the better of you, leading you to forget the most important details._ He let out a sigh.

 _Could it be that you are not involved at all with this case? But that is improbable. There are very few people who would have been able to conceive of such an elaborate plan that was equal parts intelligent and reckless, let alone be able to execute it as well. I know it couldn't have been an executive because it involves far too many risks that most businessmen would be unwilling to take. And it could not have been some mafia boss acting on his own who planned this for more or less the same reason. No, it could only have been you, of that I'm certain._

He drew himself out of his musings and turned to Rester. "Please call Mister Mason." Near ordered calmly.

"Right away," Lidner replied.

Half an hour later, a bald and chubby—read fat—man with a gray mustache, wearing a brown suit with a black tie walked into control room of the SPK. His name was Steve Mason, and he was the current director of the FBI.

"I'm sorry for the delay," he said as he walked towards Near who was then playing darts, and failing miserably to score any decent points—or even hit the board—if I may say so. "I had a meeting with the President today." He explained. Near merely nodded in acknowledgement and then proceeded to tell him about his latest conclusions regarding the case. By the end of his report, the director's mouth was gaping.

"You mean to tell me that it was Kira who killed Takimura, not the kidnappers?" Mason exclaimed.

"Like I said, it is only one of many possibilities," Near responded coolly, throwing a dart lazily at the board and missing the edge by about an inch.

"And you think that this person, Mello…" He paused for a moment to wait for a confirmation and continued once Near nodded again. "Is the one who planned the kidnapping? Why would he do it?"

Near shrugged. "I am not one hundred percent certain, yet, but he is the most likely suspect. As for his motive, it is quite simple. He was runner-up at Wammy's to succeed L, so he must be competing with me to catch Kira and claim the title of being L's true successor."

"But why would he go to the mafia for that? Why not cooperate with the government?" Mason pressed.

"Well, for one thing he might not trust the police at the moment, as all too many police organizations have surrendered to Kira. Even the NPA is officially neutral, only the members of the Task Force are actually pursuing Kira. The mafia, on the other hand, are not quite as likely to give in, for reasons that I believe are not necessary for me to explain." Near began, chucking another dart at the board.

"For another," he went on, "he might not have any qualms about working with criminals because L himself was not above collaborating with lesser criminals to catch worse criminals, and as Mello—unlike myself—worships L, he would think of it as doing just what L did, after all, compared to Kira the mafia are pretty tame."

Mason mused on Near's words before nodding, signaling his understanding. "So what should we do?"

Near shrugged again. "I know how Mello thinks, and he won't give up so easily, he has probably anticipated that something like this could have happen and is probably putting into action another strategy to obtain the notebook. That is," he paused, "If he hasn't done so already. Therefore, I think we should stay neutral for now, we should monitor the activities of the NPA and of the mafia, but we must keep in mind that our primary goal is to catch Kira, if we are lucky we might be able to get our hands on the notebook."

"Very well, Near." Mason sighed. Stepping back and crossing his arms, he was about to head to his desk when his phone rang. As the eyes of all the agents present at that moment were fixed on him, he grabbed his phone out of his suit's pocket and glanced at the caller ID. It was a private number. Wondering who could be calling him, he answered the call.

After a few seconds during which everyone around him continued to stare at him, he lowered the phone, a frown plastered on his face, and covered the receiver with his hand. Stepping towards Near, he leaned down towards him and whispered. "I can't believe. It's L."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Hello, there. I know. I am late. I guess we found out one thing: I am not very good with deadlines (my teachers knew that), from now on I won't promise to update at any given date, I'll just say soon or late. Deal? Good. This time though, you can't really complain because the chapter is pretty long, I planned to make it shorter but it didn't obey me, it wanted to expand itself._

 _What did you guys think of my portrayal of Near? of the Detectives? Of Light Yagami? Of the LAX scene? And the awaited (I hope) meeting between Mello and Sayu? Please R &R to let me know._

 _Finally, I want to thank everyone who has read this story, and specially those who have read all the chapters so far. And I also want to thank Nachtigall (Sind sie Deutsch?) for reviewing, it's great to know you loved it,_ _and Demonic Mello for reviewing again and explaining what fangirling involves (I think I get it now), and I hope you liked the slight physical interaction between Mello and Sayu. And to answer your questions, 1) Mello's lines, when talking to Mr. Yagami were a combination of the actual dialogue from memory and some stuff that I came up with. I did the same here. 2) I will keep you guys on the dark about the narrator for now._ _  
_

 _P.S. I included a reference to Casino (great film) because I just couldn't help it._

 _P.P.S. In case you're wondering what kept me so long (I had actually finished the bulk of this chapter two days ago) it was a Harry Potter fanfic called "Two Weeks" (can't remember the name of the author) its a "Dramione" fic. If you like HP and haven't read this yet, I recommend it. I was skeptical at first but ended up enjoying it. (This is not a plug because, like I said, I did not write "Two Weeks")._


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer 1: I don't own Death Note, if I did I would have made L explicitly straight to drive all the fan girls mad. (Joke: no hate please)._

 _Disclaimer 2: None of the political, religious, or literary opinions found in this chapter reflect those of the author except for a few of the opinions on literature_ — _challenge: see if you can spot them._

 _Warning: Mild swearing._

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 _ **October 11**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2012. 17:12 (Atlantic Time).**_

 _ **SPK Headquarters, Upper West Side, Manhattan.**_

 _ **October 12**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2012. 08:12 (Pacific Time).**_

 _ **Kira Task Force, Tokyo.**_

Silently Near held his hand towards Mason who in turn understood immediately what the white-haired genius wanted. The Director of the FBI transferred the call to an untraceable phone they had designed specially for Near and attached a voice modified before wordlessly handing the equipment to Near. It took them no more than half thirty one seconds and ten milliseconds.

Putting the phone exactly three millimeters away from his left ear, he allowed his lips to form a smirk as he spoke into the phone. "I'm pleased to meet you at last… L number two."

On the other end of the line, Light Yagami grit his teeth and almost let a grunt escape his lips. Anyone with two brain cells would have been able to see the comment for what it was, hell, even Matsuda had gasped along with the other members of the Task Force, and the young detective was not the brightest man around.

Taken at face value the words could be interpreted as praise, it seemed as if the caller whoever he was—Light being a chauvinist did not consider even for a second that it could have been a woman—was acknowledging Light as L's successfor, and thus, as a highly intelligent and talented detective.

However, no one—as far as Light was aware—knew of L's death, it had never been announced to the public, and the Task Force had not included it in any of their records, therefore, the caller must have intended the words to be taken as an insult. Simply put, the caller meant not only that Light was not as clever and resourceful as Ryuzaki (the detective formerly known as L), thus putting him in second place when compared to the previous L, but also that this was so clearly evident that it could not fool anyone.

Restraining himself, Light spoke calmly into the phone, pretending not to know what the caller meant, his perfect annoying General American accent—you should know by now that I do not approve of it—distorted into something even more lifeless by the voice modifier he was using. "L number two? What do you mean by that? Who are you?"

On his end, and to the amusement of the SPK members, Near's smirk grew wider. "There's no need to pretend, _L_." he said coolly. "All the top officials of the US government, including, of course, the head of the CIA and the director of the FBI, along with all the members of the SPK are aware by now that the real L died five years ago, in Japan."

 _How do they know about that?_ Light thought, as Matsuda spoke behind him. "So that's why the US government does not trust Light, they know he's not the real L. This is bad…"

"Indeed," replied Aizawa, "that's why they set up the SPK."

Meanwhile, Near continued speaking into the phone, "I believe, from the conversation that the Deputy Director had with Joe MacEnroe or, if you prefer, Larry Connors, that I need not explain what the SPK is. As for who I am, you can refer to me as N."

Light was stumped for a second. _N? who is this guy? What kind of codename is that? It must be some sort of imitation of L… and the way he speaks, with such confidence and straight to the point, coldly, it almost feels as if I am speaking to L, did this guy know L?… but that doesn't make any sense, I'm getting ahead of myself, even if it does feel that way, there's no reason for me to think that this person is anything at all like L._

"Anyway, I would like to know what is the purpose of this call, _L_?" they boy calling himself N asked, and if he had allowed himself to express any emotion, one could have described his tone as mocking but, Near being the robotic creature he was, it was impossible to tell what he felt at that moment. Mason, as he listened to the conversation along with the other members of the SPK, for his part found it amusing to hear the Near's voice as it was distorted by the modified, his English accent gone.

 _There he goes again,_ Light thought grinding his teeth, _emphasizing the title of L, almost as if he wishes to drive home the fact that I am not the real L, almost as if he is just humoring me by calling me L._ "Your agent informed the Deputy Director that the SPK, along with other American intelligence and law enforcement agencies were willing to collaborate with the NPA Kira Task Force on the current hostage situation."

"That is correct, _L_." Near replied simply. "But surely by now you must know that their hostage, Director Takimura, is dead."

Once again, Light was confused. _Is he being serious or is he just taunting me, is he trying to insinuate that he is better informed than me? That seems to be the most likely possibility._ Unclenching his jaws, Light responded. "The kidnappers have taken another hostage, we would like your assistance in trying to find the culprits."

 _Another hostage?_ Near repeated to himself, ignoring the looks of surprise he was getting from Rester and the other SPK members. _It seems I was correct, Mello had prepared a backup plan, and it seems that he implemented it sooner than I would have expected. An error on my part, I guess, Mello was never one to wait long when switching from one plan to another. If the NPA is requesting our help that means the new hostage must have already left Japan, he is probably here in America by now, which in turn means that he must have executed this plan the moment he heard about Takimura. The only logical conclusion is that Mello must have had this prepared long before taking Takimura hostage, almost as if he expected that his first hostage would die. The question is why? He must know that Kira has ways of obtaining information from within the police? Did he risked the death of Takimura just to confirm that? Or was there something else in his mind, if so what? Unless, of course, he suspects_ — _as I do_ — _that Kira is someone working within the Task Force, probably the second L himself, and by having Takimura die and taking the second hostage he would force the Task Force to keep the news of the second kidnapping a secret from the rest of the NPA in order to prevent another death. That way, if the new hostage dies it would confirm that Kira is either working within the Task Force or has someone in the Task Force working for him, increasing the probability that the second L is indeed Kira, or at least working for him. However, if Kira is not involved in any way with the Task Force and the hostage does not die, the members of the Task Force would have no choice but to hand Mello the notebook. Either way, Mello wins and the investigation will advance, which would unwittingly benefit both of us, though he would retain the upper hand._

Having taking a second to think through this—yes, it only took him a second to think all of that, probably less, knowing the little bastard—he quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts and returned to the conversation he was having with the second L. "Who is the new hostage?"

"The new hostage is Sayu Yagami, the Deputy Director's daughter." The man calling himself L replied.

 _That's it, that confirms it!_ The thought flashed throught Near's mind. _By taking Sayu Yagami as a hostage, Mello ensured that the Task Force would not divulge the information to the rest of the NPA, lest Sayu Yagami meet the same fate as the late Director, effectively trapping Kira if he is a part of the Task Force or, alternatively, leaving him out of the loop if he is not._

The pseudo-albino allowed himself to smirk again, _how brilliant of you, Mello, I am sure L himself would be proud of your work,_ he thought to himself as if he was actually talking to the troublesome blond.

"Does anyone know about this latest kidnapping?" he asked the second L.

"No." The voice replied on the other line. "No one apart from the members of the Task Force and now the SPK knows about this."

 _Well, it looks like your planned has worked perfectly, Mello._ "I take it that we should keep this information to ourselves as well?"

"Yes."

"Fine. We will cooperate with the Task Force, but we will head separate investigations into the matter. Naturally, we will share any relevant information we uncover with you, but for the moment we will be working on a need to know basis." _Though perhaps I should take this opportunity to observe how he works almost at first-hand and see what he does about the situation, after all, if he truly is Kira I should not be helping him that much._ "On second thoughts, I will let you take the lead up on this one, if you need anything feel free to contact us through the number I will provide in a minute."

"Thank you," Light replied. _Finally,_ Kira thought, _I will be able to be in control of the situation and if I am lucky I will be able to get close enough to this N and get rid of him._ "We will keep you informed of any developments."

At that point both men hung up at the same time.

"So what are we gonna do about this situation, Light?" Ide asked the youngest member of the Task Force.

"Yeah, I thought that the Americans simply stopped trusting L," Soichiro added, "but I would never have guessed that they knew the previous L was dead."

"I wonder how they found out about that," Matsuda mused, "we didn't report it to anyone, we don't even have it written down in our own records."

"It doesn't matter." Aizawa cut in, soberly. "The fact of the matter is that they now know that Light is not L."

Light sat silently for a moment before speaking again, "Aizawa is right, it doesn't matter. We should focus on the task ahead of us, which is rescuing Sayu. And we should look at this as an opportunity to learn how the SPK works."

"You are right," his father agreed. "We shouldn't get distracted by this, it is a trivial matter."

The other Task Force members nodded before they turned back to their computers, ready to continue working.

* * *

 _ **That same day, 14:00 (Pacific Time).**_

 _ **Mafia hideout, LA.**_

After having unceremoniously dumped her on his bedroom at around midday, Mello and his cronies had left Sayu to herself for the better part of two hours, sitting on one of the armchairs in the bedroom, well away from the windows. Not that it mattered much, after all, her feet and arms were still tied together and she could not hop over to the window.

Besides, it would have been incredibly stupid for her to jump through the window, considering that even if she managed to break through it, once she landed on the ground she would still be rendered immobile by the ropes around her arms and legs and in addition would break some of her bones as well, which would make it impossible for her to escape, making it a fruitless effort.

It was at around two in the afternoon when the door to Mello's room swung open and the blond prodigy strode—not walked—towards Sayu. Roughly he pulled the three layers of tape off her mouth causing the poor girl to gasp. Looking down at his hostage coolly he barked, "Do you like pizza, Miss Yagami?"

Having expected him to say anything except for that Sayu was only able to give a lame reply which reflected her confusion. "What?"

Mello huffed impatiently. "You speak English, don't you, Miss Yagami?"

Sayu nodded in reply. "Good. So, will you answer the question? Do you like pizza?"

"Y-yeah." The girl mumbled.

"What kind?"

"Er… what?" She repeated, still confused by what her kidnapper was asking her.

"'What' is not a kind of pizza, Miss Yagami." Mello huffed. _This is going to be hard. Why can't she just answer the goddamn question. She can't be scared, I haven't even hurt her… though the way this is going… no, I should never hit a girl, let alone a hostage._

"Er—well... mozzarella is my favorite." She said uncertain.

"Good. Was that so hard?" said the blond, though he didn't wait for a reply, nor did it seem to Sayu that he was expecting one. Instead he grabbed his sleek smartphone out of the pocket of his trousers, glaring at the device as if he hated it, the leather-clad boy—man?—dialed a nuimber and within a few seconds he spoke into it.

"Yeah, Rashual? Pizzas will do fine… order one large mozzarella for her… you know what I want… well you should by now… four cheese, large. Good." And with that he ended the call and turned towards the girl again.

"What kind of snacks do you like?"

Sayu blinked at the question. "Er—what?"

"What kind of snacks do you like?" the teen ground out of his teeth. _One more what and I'm storming out of here._ "I like chocolates, chocolate bars in particular, so what do you like? Sweets? Chips? What?"

"Um… Chips, I guess… everyone in my family likes potato chips." The girl replied.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah… it's kind of like an addiction with us…" She blushed slightly in embarrassment, though the boy in front of her did not seem to find it all silly.

"Okay." said Mello. "I will go downstairs to the kitchen to see if we've got any chips, but I'll be back in a minute. You will behave, won't you? You won't try to bite your tongue, now?"

"Why would I do that?" She exclaimed, scandalized by the notion. She wanted to make it out of this alive and—hopefully—in one piece.

"No idea. But there are people stupid enough to do it."

"Well, I won't do that."

The boy stared at her for a moment, trying to discern whether she was telling the truth or not, before turning around and striding out of the room again. "Don't do anything stupid," he called before slamming the door shut, leaving Sayu alone again who frowned at the door thinking about the brief encounter she had with the person she assumed was behind her kidnapping.

 _What the hell was that about? Why would I kill myself? Was that what the previous hostage did? But I thought they had killed him? Yet, now that I think about it, that doesn't make any sense. Why would they kill their own hostage? Maybe they drove him to commit suicide. I guess that's why they are being careful with me, so that I won't do the same thing. I'm useless to them if I am dead. It would also explain why he would bother to ask what kind of food I like instead of just forcing me to eat something. They must want me to think that I am safe, or as safe as I can be with them._

It did not take long for Mello to return, once he did he chucked the packet of chips on top of the table—where he also set a white china bowl—in front of Sayu and sat on the armchair opposite her. For a while neither of them said anything, and Sayu squirmed uncomfortably on her seat finding herself the object of the intense gaze of the blond in front of her who seemed intent to keep staring straight onto her eyes.

At length, Mello broke the silence. "I'm going to untie you now." He said simply, still looking firmly at the girl's chocolate brown eyes. She, for her part only raised her eyebrows in response. "So you can eat." He explained. "I hope you will have the sense not to try anything stupid."

"Of course I won't. I know it would be pointless." Sayu replied glaring at the blond. "This place is probably crawling with your henchmen, I am not stupid. Even if I somehow managed to get past you there would be no way for me to get out of here."

"Great, so you understand your situation." With that Mello stood from his chair and moved towards Sayu. _Looks like I won't have to pull my gun out._ He knelt down in front of her and untied the ropes around her legs before undoing those on her arms. Once he finished he backed away from her and returned to his seat. "Go on, open it." He told her, pointing to the bag of chips with one hand.

Sayu tentatively grabbed the bag and opened it carefully afraid of making any sudden movements. _Oh, this is just silly._ She thought. _There's no reason for me to be this cautious, he's not an animal and I am no threat to her._ With more confidence she poured out some of the chips—it was a large bag—onto the bowl he had brought for her before grabbing one of the potato chips and eating it.

After a moment she looked inquiringly at the teen opposite her. What was the proper etiquette to follow when your hostage fed you? She had no idea. She supposed she had to offer him some of her food as an acknowledgment of his generosity—if you could call it that—as well as an expression of gratitude. "Don't you want some?" She asked nervously.

Mello shook his head in response. "I've got my own snack… my own form of addiction, if you will." He smirked. He was teasing her by referring to her own earlier comment. Though it was true, he was addicted to chocolate bars. He pulled one out of his pocket and slowly unwrapped the foil. The moment he was done he bit off a chunk of it and moaned in pleasure. It had been at least an hour since he had last had the taste of chocolate in his mouth. Too long in his opinion. In my opinion, not long enough.

"The pizzas will be here in twenty minutes." He said in a conversational tone.

"Okay." Sayu replied uncertainly. She was not sure why he was talking to her at all. He was supposed to be her kidnapper. She had expected him to ignore her for the most part. But then she remembered. He was trying to make her feel comfortable, so that she would not do anything crazy.

Once more they fell into an awkward silence. Mello was getting more irritated with every passing second. If he was going to put himself through the trouble of keeping this girl company to make sure that she did not hurt herself, he was going to have to find something to talk about to pass the time. He was not a geek like Matt, he found very little amusement in video games. _You've got to be a nut job to play more than a couple of hour straight._ He thought—quite rightly, might I add.

Sayu for her part used the momentary silence to examine her kidnapper more carefully. He definitely was not as immediately terrifying as his cronies. No scars marred his face, and he was not quite as muscular as them. She had found him handsome at first sight but looking at him again, when she felt calmer, she supposed that was the wrong word to describe him. He was altogether too youthful—too feminine, perhaps—to be handsome. Nevertheless, he was still quite attractive.

She almost shook her head when she found herself having what could be termed as inappropriate thoughts about her captor. She only refrained from doing so because it would draw unwanted attention from the blond boy. Instead she returned to studying him while keeping her thoughts focused. His leather attire would have made him look more threatening if his clothes had not been quite as tight— _there you go again, Sayu! Focus!_ —though they did not fail altogether in their effect.

She shifted her gaze to his eyes and again he found no warmth to them. His blue eyes were cold. Yet again, unlike his cronies, they were not the eyes of a murderer—not that she doubted that he had committed crimes, he was a mafia leader after all—but there was something other than violence in them. She thought she could see something like determination, as well as anger, in them. _Then again_ , she thought, _I might just be imagining things_.

I for one would have agreed with that opinion. Is it even possible to discern the emotions of other people by looking into their eyes? Most people seem to think so. Reason enough to suspect that it might just be an ancient superstition that everyone believes in. Rarely has the truth been found among the mob. Is not the truth, dear reader, something that has always been found after painstaking research and thought, and only following a very long period of time? And something that has rarely—to use that word again—matched the popular beliefs of mankind. Is not the truth—if in our day and age, anyone still believes that such a thing exists—something that is only accessible, at first, to a small number of people? Is not the very way to the truth a narrow road, as the wisest of all men once said?

But even supposing that it _was_ true that by looking deeply into the eyes of an individual—assuming, of course, that there is any actual depth within those organs one—could see the emotions of the person in question, how many people would have the eyesight required to do such a thing? Most of those whom I call acquaintances have rather average eyesight, many of them have poor eyes—they can't even read without the aid of a pair of spectacles—and yet they claim to be able to tell what a person is feeling by gazing into their eyes. It seems to be that they are just imagining things, and that this was also the case with Miss Yagami, then. But enough! Enough! These are questions that belong to philosophy and science, so I will let them rest for now, let us just take it on faith that what Miss Yagami _thought_ she saw was _actually_ there.

"What kind of literature do you like?" The question, to Sayu, seemingly came out of nowhere. One second she was wondering what lurked in the eyes of teen in front of her and the next she was struggling to comprehend the question that had been hurled at her.

"Er—what?"

Mello almost threw his hands in the air in exasperation, but restrained himself just in the nick. He had an appearance to maintain. He could not let this girl let him think that she was getting under her skin, and he was not going to act unprofessional around her. Holding back a sigh he spoke again. "You are studying literature at university right?" Sayu merely nodded. "All right, so what kind of books do you like?"

"Er—" where had her vocabulary gone? She thought to herself and quickly attempted to get a grip of herself. "I like magical realism…"

"Really?" Mello raised an eyebrow. "I don't like that genre much."

"Why not?" She found herself asking before she could stop it.

"Too fantastical." He replied simply, taking another bite at his chocolate bar. When she raised a questioning eyebrow, he elaborated his reply. "I mean, come on, rain that last for ten years? A guy who is born with a lizard's tail? Collective amnesia? Ice that doesn't melt? Women who ascend to heaven for no reason whatsoever? Men and women who are surrounded by butterflies constantly? People who fall out of exploding planes and survive? And change into angels and demons on top of that? Men who can create a woman out of their own thoughts and give them a life of their own? Curses that can dry up a lake in a day? I mean, that's just too much to take in. How are you supposed to care for a story when anything can happen? If everything is possible, then does anything really matter?"

"You are not getting the point of it." Sayu huffed indignantly.

"Oh really, then what's the point?" Mello replied mockingly.

"The point is to expand your imagination! Not to limit it to dull grey materialism!" She explained. "It's about appealing to our need for myths. It's about the beauty of a subjective perspective of the world. It's about conveying how people who believe in magic and miracles experience the world, or how we would experience it if they were real. It's not just escapism."

Mello raised his eyebrows again, impressed that the girl had not even hesitated during her outburst. This was clearly something important to her. "Fine. Then who's your favorite author among this bunch of glorified fantasy writers."

"They are not glorified fantasy writers!" She replied angrily. Realizing that it was not in her best interests to get mad at her kidnapper—she had no idea when his patience would run out—she took a calming breath before continuing. "But to answer your question, my favorite magical realist would have to be Salman Rushdie. He's also my overall favorite writer."

Mello again just raised his eyebrows. "Why Rushdie?"

Sayu closed her eyes for a moment before replying, trying to think of the right words. _How can I describe Rushdie?_ "Because he's magical." she said finally. There was no other way of putting it.

Mello chuckled. "Really? You think a magical realist is magical?"

"Well that's the only apt word to describe him—in my opinion." She paused again for a moment. "I mean, when I first read _The Satanic Verses_ , I was a bit skeptical. I thought that people only read it because of the controversy. So when my high school English teacher recommend it to me, I was sure going in that it was probably overrated."

"Then what happened?"

Sayu shook her head again. "I don't know how to describe it. Not really."

She said, smiling slightly. "It' ridiculous, when I think about it. I've spent the last two years studying literature and having classes on literary criticism and I still don't know how to say with any precision what I thought—no, what I felt—when I read the first page of that book. It just drew me in. It almost felt as if I was listening to music, not reading a book. Rushdie's just a master of language, what he does with it defies all description. He has a fantastic command of the language, but he never comes off as pretentious—unlike some other writers. And English is not even his first language! He's a superb narrator. And he's got a great sense of humor, too. Very ironic. However, his books are also very deep, and the themes he deals with they are the themes of our age."

Sayu took a breath, to steady her voice which had become increasingly more excited with every word she said during her rant. "And it's been the same with his other books. I just pick up his novels and I have to force myself to put them down, otherwise I will just keep turning the pages. I have never felt like that when reading anyone else."

Mello did not say anything as he listened to Sayu's ramblings on Rushdie. It was true. The man was a superb author. And all the themes that he dealt with, immigration and integration, multiculturalism, about the importance of tolerance, were subjects that Mello himself found interesting. It almost made it worth it to put up with all the angels and demons and witches and dream visions the man liked to write about.

And, of course, he admired the man's guts. Aside from one literary abortion in which he had attempted to grovel for his life with the stone faced mullahs of an oppressive theocracy, doing everything he could to avoid a violent confrontation with a supposed "great religion"— _as if there's any other great religion apart from Roman Catholic Christianity!_ —Mello thought only for his compromise to be rejected by those who had offered the truce in the first place, Salman had consistently stood up for the right of free expression and defended it from those who wanted to curtail it with the threat of violence. _I wonder how many writers would have dared to do what he did?_ He thought. _Certainly no one at the New York Times_ , he scoffed mentally.

He noticed that the girl in his custody had fallen silent again, and the knock at his door brought him back to earth. He stood up to open the door to find Rashual waiting behind it holding two pizza boxes on one hand. "Here's the food." The man said.

"Great. It's about time." He said taking the boxes from Rashual. "I'll see you afterwards." And with that he closed the door and went back to the table, setting down the boxes carefully on the table, opening both of them so that they could eat.

"Enjoy your meal." He said before taking a slice of his four cheese pizza.

"Thanks," Sayu said quietly, more composed now that she had finished rhapsodizing about Rushdie. Mulling quietly over their food, Sayu cocked her head slightly to one side, pondering what she was going to set next. Swallowing a bite of her mozzarella pizza, she opened her mouth. "So, who's your favorite author?"

Mello blinked, having almost forgotten that they had been discussing literature a few seconds earlier, before recovering. "Dostoyevsky." He replied simply.

"Why?" She prodded, echoing the blond.

"I have no idea." He said, disinterestedly. "Kind of like you, I suppose." He teased. Sayu narrowed her eyes at him, obviously not amused. "I just like how he writes. It's exhilarating, it's humorous. His novels are profound and the themes he explores are interesting and they resonate with me. I like how he does not shun the worst aspects of reality, instead he focuses precisely on them, showing them to the reader with clarity. It's almost as if he enjoyed writing about insane and unstable characters, as if it delighted him to portray their disturbed psyches. And that's what I like about him, with him you can explore worlds that most people have no idea even exist, a world that people would rather pretend did not exist. And sometimes, what he says is eerily prophetic, almost as if he knew about all the horrible things that were going to happen and was trying to warn people about them. In the end, I guess there's no logical reason why I like him. Like you, I just picked up _Notes from Underground_ and could not put down the book until I was done with it."

Sayu smiled at Mello, it was strange to be having a discussion about literature with her kidnapper, but it felt pleasant—she almost forgot that he was someone of whom she was supposed to be afraid—and it also made him more human, someone that she could relate to. She also noticed that as he had kept talking his cold exterior, his composure seemed to drop. She guessed that he wore it like a mask that would fall off when he talked about something he cared about. "So you like realism?" She questioned.

"And Existentialism." He added. "They are only genres I like." Mello replied.

"What? How come?" Sayu asked surprised. "I mean—there are so many different genres out there, so many different stories, isn't it too limited, too narrow-minded—"

"I don't care." He cut her off before she began rambling again. "Science Fiction and Fantasy do nothing for me. Too speculative and too escapist. I don't care about what could happen, or what things could be like, or about what other possible worlds. I only care about this one and what can occur in it. Romanticism is just bullshit." He went on, shocking Sayu even more, not just by his language—for which I have to apologize to the reader, but I am only a chronicler, and I must relate things accurately—but by the manner in which he dismissed entire genres with such ease. _And there is again!_ She thought, _he's getting passionate again._

"It's just a bunch of fools distorting history and nature to satisfy their dissatisfaction with the lives and the time period allotted to them, and to mask their self-contempt. When anyone tells me that nature is wonderful and innocent or any of that green crap I quote them that line from the Anti-Christ, 'Chaos rules'. Which in nature is true. If life is at all pleasant it is because we conquered and tamed nature. As for met fiction, and most of that postmodernist crap," Sayu gulped again. "I really can't stand it. What's the point of telling the reader that they are reading a work of fiction? To emphasize that what they are reading is not real? It's just a mental masturbation, is what it is. I can't imagine anyone picking up a novel, or a short story, or a play, and think that what he's reading about actually happened."

"What about historical fiction?" Sayu asked timidly.

"Crap." Came the reply. "I would rather read a history books on the Tudors than read fucking Wolf Hall."

"Hey, I liked that book!" She glared at him.

"I don't really care." He shrugged.

"Fine. What about detective novels?"

"Most of them are crap."

She, somehow, came to the conclusion that "crap" would be his standard reply.

Mello inhaled deeply and calmed himself, taking another slice of pizza in his hand. He really had to keep a hold of his emotions. But this was just one of those topics that brought them out. It was inevitable, he supposed. Literature, nay, all art was deeply personal, so it was only natural that he might drop his mask when he talked about it. He, after all, was not a robot, an emotionless doll— _unlike some people_.

If a third party had been present and reflected on what they had both said, they might have found it ironic that Mello, who was presumably a Roman Catholic and who—it must be assumed—believed in gods, conceiving virgins, angels, and miracles, detested anything but realism in art while Sayu who—as I have it on good authority—did not believe in anything supernatural, felt that realism was too limited.

Finishing his slice he glanced at Sayu again who was busy eating another slice of her own. He waited until she had finished to ask his next question. "So, why are you studying literature?"

"Oh, well, I guess I was planning on becoming a teacher eventually." She replied somewhat uncertainly. "And maybe become a critic in the future." She added.

"A critic?" Mello repeated, surprised. "Don't you want to become a writer?"

"Well, yeah," the girl responded. "But I haven't tried anything yet… I was thinking of starting with some fan fiction—"

"Wait." Mello stopped her with a wave of his hand. "What the hell is _fan fiction_?"

"You haven't heard of it?" She said, cocking her head to the side again.

He rolled his eyes. "Would I be asking if I had?"

She giggled a bit. "I guess not."

"So, are you going to answer the question or not?"

Sayu put her index finger to her chin, thinking of how best to reply. "Well, fan fiction is basically fans of a book or an anime or manga or film writing their own twists and running along with it." She explained, as Mello stared attentively at her. It was not often that he came across something that he had no knowledge of, so he was giving her his undivided attention. Well, not strictly undivided he was still eating his pizza.

"Sometimes they expand on the canon by picking scenes or moments that were not given much detail in the original work and elongating them. But some fans change the story by diverging from the main storyline at one point, some of them even rewrite the original almost from scratch."

Mello nodded. "I see. It sounds like a huge waste of time." He said flippantly.

"No it isn't!" Sayu responded indignantly.

"Yes, it is." He said calmly. "What's the point of it? Whatever you do it's still not going to change the actual story."

"You're missing the point." She insisted.

"No, I'm not. From the sound of it, it seems that it is nothing but wish fulfillment," said Mello dismissively.

"You see!" Sayu exclaimed. "You are missing the point! Literature is all about wish fulfillment. Fan fiction is just another way of doing that. It is a creative way of showing your admiration for a work of fiction that has affected you deeply and that is emotionally valuable to you!" She ranted "And other fans appreciate the time you take to write it, specially when the version of the story you write coincides with the way _they_ wished the original had been written."

She paused to take a calming breath. "And it's not just some made up modern thing. It has an ancient tradition, too. There have always been writers who took someone else's story and then changed it. Greek Tragedy was basically all fan fiction. All the classical playwrights wrote their plays based on the same stories. A lot of them were basically just expansions of the Iliad or the Odyssey. Hell, even Shakespeare did it! _King Lear_ is based on another play _with the exact same name_ and he changed it to suit his tastes."

Mello chuckled with what Sayu thought was a tone of derision. "Don't talk to me about Shakespeare as if it that mattered. The man was a piss-poor playwright. Mediocre at best."

At that Sayu's jaw met the floor. "What?!" She exclaimed breathlessly. _I can't possibly have heard him right._

"You heard me." The boy said nonchalantly, clearly unconcerned with the fact that he had just insulted someone who has been esteemed as the greatest of playwrights and most sublime of poets. "I have tried liking Shakespeare, trust me. I grew up in England." _England? Then how come he speaks with an American accent?_

"And the literature teachers crammed him into our heads every week of every month of every year." Mello continued, snorting. "I have read all the play that are considered to be his best— _Romeo and Juliet_ , _Macbeth_ , _Othello_ , _Hamlet_ , and _King Lear_ —along with his lesser plays. I was never able to find any merit in them, let alone the brilliance that his adulators believe are contained in them. There is nothing profound in anything written by Shakespeare. I am not sure if he is even shallow." He smirked at his allusion to an offensive remark once made by a great philosopher. "Instead, I have come away feeling exactly what Tolstoy felt—'repulsion, weariness, and bewilderment'." He quoted.

Sayu sat there gaping for a few seconds as Mello worked his way through another slice. "But… but" she spluttered. "But his tragedies—"

"Shakespeare never wrote a tragedy." The blonde boy sentenced gravely. "I've gone through all his _supposed_ tragedies and I never came across any element of tragedy in any of them. There is affirmation of life in spite of suffering, there is never a collision between conflicting rights and duties, or a reversal of fortune brought about by fatal flaw in the hero _not_ by some accident or through a vice. In fact there are no heroes to speak of in Shakespeare's plays. They are pathetic fools _at best_." He spat. Mello then narrowed her eyes at her. "And before you even think about it, he didn't write any comedies either."

"Yeah he did—" Sayu began before Mello cut her off again.

"Oh yeah?" He said, sneering. "Come on, tell me a Shakespearean joke."

"Er—well—"

"You see, you can't think of a single one. But I can remember jokes by Wilde, by Petronius Arbiter, by Aristophanes, by Bernard Shaw. But not a single one from Shakespeare."

"Of course I can't think of a joke right now!" Sayu snapped at him. "I mean, this is not the kind of environment that stimulates intellectual entertainment."

At that Mello threw his head back and laughed. "Well, Miss Yagami, you might be right about that." He said once he was done laughing. Sayu huffed and glared at him in response.

Sayu took a calming breath. "Anyway, I have to say that your opinions on literature are really narrow-minded."

"So?" The blonde said, raising an eyebrow. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Well it is! You are closing yourself off to so many different way of looking at the world!" She said, trying to persuade him, though she did not know why.

"I don't really care." Was his reply. "When I read I want to enjoy what I read, and the best way to do that is by reading things that I like, that I can identify with, that interest me. Not by reading about problems and adventures that hold no meaning for me."

She frowned at him. "I bet you haven't even read that many novels of the genres you _say_ you don't like."

"Believe me, I have." Mello replied.

"Oh, yeah?" She challenged. "You say you don't like science fiction." He nodded. "Have you read _Ilium_ by Dan Simmons."

"I tried." Mello said. "But I got bored with it half-way through and stopped reading. I think I started reading a Dickens novel instead."

"What?" Sayu exclaimed. "You can't do that! You probably missed out on the best parts of the novel. Of course you are going to think it's worthless. That's like, I don't know—" she faltered for a second trying to think of the best way to put her thoughts into words. "It's as if you start reading the Lord of the Rings and stop half-way because you're sick of Gollum and throw the book away. You are not going to understand the point of the story if you do that!"

"Funny," Mello interjected. "Because that's exactly what I did with Tolkien."

She gaped at him for a moment after that. She had never met anyone who had been unable to appreciate Tolkien. Then again, he had said he found fantasy distasteful. Neither had she ever run into someone who did not just dislike Shakespeare, but seemed to hold the bard in contempt.

Mello checked his watch and stood up, smirking to himself, content to have apparently rendered his hostage speechless. "It's been a pleasure talking to you about your literary tastes, Miss Yagami. Unfortunately, I have a job to do and lunch-time is almost over." And with that he left the room leaving a frustrated and flustered Sayu behind.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** All right before all y'all start condemning me to whichever circle of hell y'all feel I deserve to be sent to for taking so long, I wish to express my sincerest apologies that it has taken me so long to update. Perhaps if I were to confess my sins I might earn a reprieve and be condemn to purgatory instead. The thing is I've been really busy reading other things including some fanfics around here, so I just kind of let this sit for too long. It's not as long as the last chapter but longer than the first chapter._

 _I should also admit that this chapter had me stumped for a while, it is the first conversation between Mello and Sayu and I struggled to find something suitable for them to talk about until I gained a bit of inspiration after watching **Inside Plan** and decided that it would be fun to have them talk about literature. I hope you guys like it._

 _While we are on that topic_ — _like I said on the disclaimer most of the opinions that Mello and Sayu have are not my own, except for a few of them. It should be obvious that I agree with Sayu when it comes to fanfiction, so I will give that one away, even if it really should not count because of its obviousness._

 _And now for something completely different. I want to thank everyone who has read what I've written so far, and the people who have faved and followed it. As for the reviewers. Katie: thanks for your review, I hope this latest chapter lives up to your expectations, with any luck it will exceed them, but I won't presume so much. Kfranke: shame about your first review not getting posted, stuff like that seems to happen all too often on this site, I am glad that my story is good enough to have you fangirling. Demonic Mello: thank you for review once again, although I think you are being unfair toward the mafia guys (never thought I would say that!) it's not that they are stupid_ — _at least Rod Ross is not_ — _but they are not perfectionists like Mello or the other Wammy kids._

 _Finally, what did you guys think of this chapter? Did you guys like it? Did I portray Near, Light, Mello, Sayu, and the rest well? What did you think of Mello's and Sayu's first proper chat? Fun? Boring? Gut? Schlecht?_

 _Until the next time_ — _which will be soon, hopefully._

 _NDC_

 _P.S. Any spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, syntactical errors, typos or omissions are entirely my fault and no one else's._


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